A Perfect Match
by Chamelaucium
Summary: Bilbo tries his hand at match-making. What he doesn't expect is to find *his* perfect match in the process... Thilbo and Dwori as a side pairing; Lots of fluff. Also I should probably mention... it's VERY slow-build. Pain-stakingly so. *Now Complete.*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure where this came from, but it is (very!) loosely based on Emma, by Jane Austen. I really hope you'll enjoy this - it's written out of a need for more Thilbo in my life! There will be lots (I mean lots) of fluff and pining Thorin in this fic. :D**

* * *

**_A Perfect Match  
_**

Bilbo Baggins, handsome, scholarly and now very rich, had lived the first fifty years of his life in an entirely respectable manner. He had, however, spent his fifty-first birthday riding down a river clutching at a barrel and was now living in a mountain with thirteen dwarves, of all things. All remnants of respectability were now gone, and he was perfectly happy, thank you very much.

While Bilbo had perhaps lost the respect of his neighbours at home in the Shire, he had however retained his hobbit spirit. If there is anything hobbits enjoy more than good food, it is good company and _gossip_. Give a hobbit a snippet of news and no doubt it'll be known in the next town over by evening. Interfering in neighbours' business is also common-place for Shire-folk (Bilbo could attest to this, his distant cousin Lobelia being famed for her nosiness throughout the entire West Farthing).

Bilbo was just the same; he was completely unaware, however, of the consequences that would follow his curious hobbit nature...

* * *

It began with a frown. Thorin's frown. Not that this was in itself a rare occurrence (now he had taken up the mantle of kingship, often Thorin would send the wall death glares as if it had personally been responsible for the fall of Erebor) but it was afterwards that was the problem.

Normally Bilbo could shake Thorin out of whatever mood had taken him; a touch on the forearm and saying his name would make the dark clouds dissipate from Thorin's eyes and they would once more return to their bright, crystal blue, and he'd smile at the hobbit, a quick curve of his lips before returning to the matter at hand.

But this time there was nothing. Bilbo reached out to touch his arm, as he had done many times before, and Thorin shrugged him off brusquely, abruptly; Bilbo felt the sting of rejection before his hobbit pride reared his head and he left, leaving the dwarf to sulk. Bilbo didn't know why Thorin had rejected him, and he was more than a little hurt and confused, but Thorin had sulked many times along their quest and Bilbo was used to it by now.

He set off down the dark halls of Erebor, seeking out Bofur, who would be sure to make him laugh somehow. The weight of the mountain pressed down on Bilbo, and he thought wistfully about going outside and sitting in the sunshine, smoking a pipe, but he knew he'd get lost if he tried to find an exit. Perhaps Bofur could take him, when he got there.

But when he arrived at the Family Ur's chambers, it was quiet within and when Bilbo pushed open the door, Bofur and Bifur was sitting on the bed next to Bombur, who was red-faced and his eyes were puffy. Bofur stood up and joined Bilbo, leading him outside and leaving his cousin to look after Bombur.

'What's wrong?' Bilbo asked, shaken slightly. Bombur was always a jolly soul and Bilbo wondered what could have made him so upset.

Bofur sighed. 'It's his family. He misses them something awful now, you see, his wife and all their littl'uns. He hasn't seen them in over a year an' it's taking its toll on him, see,' Bofur explained. Bilbo could understand – he remembered when he'd been younger: his father had had to travel to Michel Delving and Bilbo hadn't seen him for two weeks. It had been horrible to the young Bilbo, and his mother had been quieter than usual until Bungo Baggins had once again stepped through the door of Bag End.

Bofur did accompany him to a large terrace opening out onto the mountain side, and Bilbo revelled in the feel of the sun gently warming his face after so long spent in chill shadows, of the soft brush of the warm wind on his cheeks and in his hair after feeling only draughty fingers of air sending shivers down his back. In the pleasant sensations he almost forgot about Bombur.

He was reminded of it forcefully at dinner that evening. Glóin was miserable and Óin was too busy helping his brother to food and making sure he ate it all to pay much mind to the conversation going on around them, and his raucous songs were missed by the Company. Seeing Glóin looking paler than usual and his plate half as full as normal worried Bilbo, and at Bofur's pointed glance at him he knew it was because of Glóin's family. Bilbo had heard much about his wife and Gimli during the quest, Glóin taking full advantage of having a company member who had not already been told absolutely everything about his fine son and beautiful wife.

Over the next couple of days Bilbo saw more of the dwarves like this – Ori grew quieter, Balin smiled a little less (although he always had one for Bilbo, at least) and even Fíli's and Kíli's tricks became tamer and less often, their playful natures dulled slightly. They would still tease Bilbo but never with as much enthusiasm, their play-fighting and training even less so. Thorin just grew moodier with every passing day, and Bilbo didn't know how much more he could endure of this.

Erebor was quiet already, only the fourteen of them clearing the higher levels which had been left undamaged by the dragon and a cohort of workers from the Iron Hills, who were working on fixing up and rebuilding the lower levels. Silence lay heavy on the dusty halls and when Bilbo's companions added their silence to the dark quiet of the stone, Bilbo thought he might go mad. It was just too quiet.

Bilbo knew then what he had to do.

They had just finished dinner one evening and while Bilbo sat back and sighed contentedly at his pleasantly full stomach, the dwarves were sitting quietly and staring at their plates. Thorin stood up to leave after a while and the others got up to follow suit, but Bilbo stayed where he was.

'Balin, could I talk to you for a moment please?' he asked. Balin raised a fluffy white eyebrow but nodded, and moved back to the table. Bilbo could feel Thorin's eyes on him, most likely in the glare he had permanently adopted as of late. Much as Bilbo admired the dwarf and thought him a fine friend, sometimes his moods were a little… well, _annoying_, to say the least. _If Bilbo had been another, less patient hobbit…_

Eventually everyone had gone and Thorin's scowl had left, leaving Bilbo's skin prickling. He turned to Balin, who had sat down again and was looking at Bilbo expectantly. Bilbo shuffled uncertainly in his seat. Now it was time, he wasn't so sure about this any more. But Balin was stil the same kindly dwarf he'd been a year ago and Bilbo plucked up his courage and spoke, his words tumbling out of him in a rush in his eagerness.

'I've noticed that you are all a bit – a bit unhappy, and I have an idea to make you feel better. Bofur said it was because of family and I thought maybe – seeing as the rooms up here are all fixed and cleaned – I thought perhaps you could send for them? Send for the families of our Company early, before we send for the rest of your people…' he trailed off, unsure if what he was suggesting was the done thing or if he'd just broken a taboo of some sort.

Balin didn't say anything, so Bilbo carried on, almost muttering now in embarrassment. 'I mean, I know Glóin and Bombur are married with children, who they haven't seen in over a year. And I'm sure Fíli and Kíli miss their mother…'

There was a slight pause, but after a moment Balin nodded thoughtfully.

'Aye, laddie. I think you're right,' he said, and Bilbo felt a small surge of relief wash through him at those words. 'I'll write the letters this evening. We've been wary of sending for them too early, see, for fear o' the children running around while it's still not safe. But I suppose Gimli's not a child so much anymore, and Bombur's wife does a good job managing those dwarflings…' Balin paused for a moment, smiling as he thought of the brood of little dwarves all with their father's red hair, and Gimli, who was so much like Glóin it was like seeing a younger version.

He gave a smile then, a large grin which wiped the years off his face. 'And I'm sure the Lady Dís will kick some sense into Fíli and Kíli. And probably her brother too.'

Bilbo couldn't help but smile at that; he'd heard much about Thorin's sister and she sounded like a formidable person. He didn't want to ever be in her bad books; that much was for certain.

'Thank you, Balin. If I can do anything...?' Bilbo asked, but Balin waved him away.

'It's just a few letters, lad. I'll get someone to take them to Dale and see to finding a messenger to deliver them tomorrow.'

Satisfied with the conversation and now feeling the full effects of all the rich food, Bilbo yawned and walked with Balin to his chamber, where he said goodnight to the older dwarf and headed straight for his large bed, piled high with blankets and furs and pelts to keep him warm. He changed into his night clothes and snuggled deep under the covers, cocooning himself in warmth. As he fell asleep, his heart was lighter as he thought that his friends would, in a few months' time, soon be reunited with their families.

A small part of Bilbo's heart ached for his home, heavy in its yearning for times past when his parents were yet living, but he ignored it and was soon lost in the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

The next day at breakfast, as Bilbo settled himself into a chair, Balin shot him a smile and there was a twinkle in his eye that had been missing for a while. Thorin saw, and he narrowed his eyes at Bilbo who ignored him and instead continued tucking his napkin into his shirt and piling his plate with food.

'I wish you to join me in surveying the treasury today, Bilbo,' he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest and Bilbo looked up in surprise. 'Keep you out of trouble,' Thorin added, shooting an unreadable look at Balin.

'Alright,' Bilbo shrugged and smiled at Thorin, who looked pleased that he'd accepted so readily. Bilbo supposed it must be lonely to be a King - already the others were beginning to treat him more reverently, and Thorin had to remind them multiple times that he was still Thorin to them, not 'Your Majesty'. His nose would wrinkle slightly as he said the words, and it always made Bilbo laugh.

Only Bilbo and Balin (and Fíli and Kíli) remained the same in Thorin's company now as they were before, and for that reason Thorin would seek their company when he could. Bilbo couldn't truly say he minded; while Thorin was grumpy and stubborn he was good company, and Bilbo always felt a thrill of achievement when he managed to make Thorin laugh, filling the room with his deep, bass laughter which reverberated in Bilbo's chest.

Thorin gave him what counted as a smile in return - more of a slight curve of the lips than anything else- and Bilbo began to eat, tucking in with enthusiasm. Really, the dwarven cooks sent with the cohort of workers weren't bad at all, he mused. Perhaps a little heavy handed on the meat and they skimped a bit on vegetables, but it was delicious all the same. Even if he was eating _steak_ for breakfast.

The chatter was quiet that morning, as it had been the past week, and Bilbo couldn't help but smile when he thought of how happy his friends would be when they were finally reunited with their families, and he was so lost in his reverie that he didn't notice Thorin' s glances in his direction, both bemused and suspicious.

When Bilbo finished Thorin stood up and motioned for Bilbo to follow. The hobbit stood up quickly, stubbing his toe on his chair as he did so and letting out a muffled curse that would have turned Lobelia's ears red if she'd heard, and followed Thorin out of the dining room. He didn't see the small smile again curving Thorin's lips, hidden as it was by the grey-streaked beard.

They made their way to the treasury, down in the lower levels. As they descended the noise of the dwarves from the Iron Hills rebuilding the mines could be heard, a great hammering and pounding as many dwarves carved at great blocks of stone and moved them into place. There was still much to do, and Thorin looked around his home sadly, taking in again the magnitude of the damage the dragon had wrought. Thankfully the work was being completed faster than expected, so there was hope that Erebor would be restored to its former glory in not too long a time from then.

'I shall have to send something to Dain as payment for the workers he's provided us with,' Thorin explained to Bilbo, his curls just reaching Thorin's shoulder. 'And as thanks,' Thorin admitted, grudgingly. He didn't like having to thank Dain, who had done nothing to help all those years before, when the dragon had come, and had left his people to wander alone and starve...

At a small warm touch to his hand from Bilbo, Thorin snapped out of his silent rage and unclenched his fists (he didn't remember clenching them in the first place). Gratefully he gave a Bilbo a nod, and Bilbo just patted his hand affectionately. Thorin felt a lump build in his throat; he gave thanks to Mahal every day for sending him to the halfling, for giving him this friend who kept him sane even in the fires of his anger. Only Balin had managed to do so before, and Thorin was sure the old dwarf relished handing the job of keeping Thorin's temper in check to someone else.

'And why do you need me?' Bilbo asked, laughing. 'I don't know anything about jewels. Or Dain, for that matter.'

'No,' agreed Thorin, 'but you can help me decide - give an unbiased opinion, so to speak. All the others will try to sway me - they all have their favourite gems, you see, so would advocate _anything_, if it had their gem in it.'

'Alright,' Bilbo agreed readily enough, and looked at Thorin. 'What are their favourite gems?'

'Glóin favours rubies, and always has done. I think they remind him of his wife and his son,who both have his red hair,' Thorin chuckled. 'Balin likes diamonds, simple and clean. There's no surprises in a diamond, and I think Balin just wished everything were that clear-cut. Fíli and Kíli prefer opals - but I think that's only because Dís always loved them...'

'And you?' Bilbo asked. 'What are your favourites?'

'Emeralds,' Thorin replied brusquely, and said nothing more about it. When Bilbo asked why he merely shook his head and pressed his lips together in a tight line and refused to say anything else. Knowing when to quit, Bilbo stopped and the two reached the treasury in silence, Thorin pushing open the large stone door and ushering Bilbo inside. The light of the torches flickering in their brackets guttered at the draught, reflecting off the piles of coins and gold and jewels in the room, creating a golden haze which Bilbo found increasingly off-putting and made him want to keep rubbing his eyes as if he could clear his sight that way.

Bilbo followed Thorin inside and peered dutifully among the great stacks for something that would be of use, that would be a worthy gift to the Lord of the Iron Hills. The gems and jewellery _were _pretty, but there was so much of it - golden necklaces that were made of so much gold that when Bilbo lifted it it was all he could do to keep his arm up; scabbards covered in gems that were so heavy Bilbo couldn't lift them in the first place.

They wandered in silence, for the most part, until Thorin broke it.

' What did you and Balin talk about, yesterday evening?' he asked, pausing from inspecting a shield glittering with precious stones forming the shape of a snake.

'Don't give him that,' Bilbo advised, pointing to the shield. 'Wouldn't do if he thought you were hinting, now, would we?' Bilbo paused for a while longer before answering; if Balin hadn't told Thorin, was there a reason? Should Bilbo not tell him either?

But then reason reared its head - Thorin was the King and he needed to know who was going to be going and coming and who was living in the mountain, so Bilbo also stopped what he was doing.

'Balin has written to the Blue Mountains. You will have new residents here in a few months, Thorin!' he said finally, a smile playing across his open face. But Thorin looked simply thunderstruck.

'And he didn't think to ask me? To discuss with me?' he said, and Bilbo could see his temper being lost in possibly the worst sulk of Thorin's adult life.

'Oh! no, not all of them! He hasn't invited them all! Only your family. Yours and that of your company. Bombur and Glóin miss their families,' Bilbo explained, feeling sad for the two of them, but also relieved that the cloud of Thorin's anger was peeling away from him.

'Oh,' was all Thorin said, before returning to sifting through the golden mounds. Uncertain of what 'oh' meant, Bilbo asked him,

'Are you angry?' His voice was low and a hint of worry was evident. Thorin looked at him again, those blue eyes skewering him in place. His gaze softened as he regarded Bilbo, saw the nervousness in his green eyes.

'No,' he said quietly. 'I'm not angry. It was... It was kind of you. I should stop being surprised by that by now, but...' He gave Bilbo a smile, a proper smile that smoothed away the tired lines that mapped their way across his face and Bilbo couldn't help an answering smile stretch across his own face in return.

Bilbo looked away first, feeling the need to fidget under Thorin's continued gaze. He turned to rifle again through a stack of treasure and was relieved when he felt Thorin's eyes leave him, huffing out a little breath. Then his eyes landed on something - a platinum mail shirt covered in pearls and gold and tiny rubies. Perhaps it was not as fine as the mithril shirt Thorin had gifted him, but it was a worthy gift nonetheless.

'What about this?' he asked, lifting it and showing it to Thorin. The gold winked in the light from the torches , casting little puddles of gold onto Bilbo's own face. He took it to Thorin to inspect closer, and the dwarf scrutinised it closely. Eventually however he nodded, and a little bubble of achievement rose up in Bilbo at this success.

'It's perfect for Dain,' Thorin said. 'I knew you'd choose well.' Bilbo could detect the slight mirth in Thorin's voice and grinned at him, giving him a bow.

'Always happy to be of service,' he laughed. Thorin chuckled low in his throat, a deep sound that Bilbo felt rather than heard, and the two headed back to others with Dain's gift in tow, Thorin in a better mood than he had been for many days; his eyes were lighter and the line of his mouth less severe than usual. If the others noticed how his laughter came easier or smiles more often when Bilbo was around, none of them said anything; Balin may have sent his King a little wink over dinner that evening, but Thorin merely ignored him and returned his attention to the hobbit seated at his side.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! An advance warning: these chapters are LONG. I've got the first four written and they're really long!  
**

**I would really love to know what you thought about this first chapter - anything at all, please let me know! Thank you all so much for reading :3**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's the next chapter! Thank you all SO MUCH for the reviews, favourites and follows - I honestly can't tell you how happy they really do make me! I can't promise anything in terms of update regularity but here's chapter 2 to get us going. **

**Also, in response to Fanfiction Queen - yes, this is an AU where everyone lives! Set post-BOT5A, of course. Sorry I didn't make that clear!**

* * *

_Dearest Balin,_

_Your letter has been eagerly awaited here and you cannot know how grateful we are for it. You can expect us in a few months' time, as we are waiting only until we have collected enough supplies before we leave. _

_Bombur's and Glóin's wives have been missing them terribly - and the children their fathers - and it is thankful your letter came when it did. I truly cannot wait to once more see the halls of my home after these long years of exile - and my sons after this long separation. _

_Warm wishes to you all,_

_Dís_

_P.S. You can tell Glóin that Gimli's axe work is now quite terrifying. He will be so proud when he sees it._

_P.P.S. Please also inform my brother that if my sons are any less fit than they were when they left, he can start sleeping with a candle lit and fearing for his beard, because I will not be held responsible for my actions. (Please also tell him he's an idiot - but an idiot I couldn't bear to lose.)_

When Balin read the letter aloud to the Company at dinner a week after he sent his, Bilbo wasn't the only one to notice Thorin's gulp of fear at his sister's threat. (Fíli and Kíli were, mercifully, for the most part unharmed but had sustained many wounds and scars during the battle, one gracing Fíli's face from his left ear to his chin - which Kíli huffed at, as his were all hidden and he still didn't 'look' like a warrior.)

The Company spent the next two months preparing chambers for the arrivals and buying the finest cloths and pelts to furnish the rooms with. Glóin and Bombur took especial delight in furnishing their chambers ready for their families, taking care to make everything perfect for their wives and children.

Bilbo had a hard time getting Fíli and Kíli to concentrate on preparing their mother's room. All too often their attention would wander, and their feet too; when Bilbo had force-marched them to the market to pick out which furs and tapestries to line the walls with, he turned to ask their opinion on one particularly lovely hanging only to find them gone - until he spotted them getting far too friendly with the ale merchant and had to forcibly drag them away, before they returned with multiple ale kegs and no tapestries.

One evening, after a day spent trying to get them to focus and _help_, and being thwarted at every turn, Bilbo stormed to Thorin's chambers and barged in - incredibly impolite, he knew, but his temper was frazzled by the Princes' antics and he couldn't bring himself to apologise.

'Your nephews are _nightmares_,' he complained, startling Thorin who was pouring some ale from a jug into a large cup. Glancing at Bilbo stomping in, he reached for another cup and poured some out for the hobbit too, handing it to him without a word.

Bilbo accepted and flopped into a chair, and Thorin took the seat opposite.

'What are they up to now?' he asked, one eyebrow arched in amusement at Bilbo's disgruntled expression.

'Everything_ except _what they're supposed to be doing,' Bilbo grouched, staring moodily into his cup before taking a long draught of the amber liquid. He wrinkled his nose at the bitterness, but drank deeply again until he'd finished. 'Can't you do something about it?'

'Oh, they will feel the consequences, ' Thorin promised, taking a sip of his ale. 'After all, Fíli is to be King after me; he must learn responsibility. And we can't have the two of them terrorising our hobbit now, can we?' He smiled at Bilbo, who mumbled something unintelligible and looked down into his empty cup. Thorin laughed silently into his own.

'Do you know what the arrival of the others will mean?' Thorin asked suddenly, pulling Bilbo's gaze from the dregs in his cup to Thorin.

'What?' he asked, shaking his head.

'You will have to meet my sister,' Thorin replied, and Bilbo grinned.

'I hear she's a very fearsome woman,' he said, and Thorin couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped his lips, and Bilbo's grin only widened.

'Only when it comes to her sons,' Thorin agreed. 'You should have seen her the year she turned ninety, and she got her first courting bead. She was so moon-eyed Frerin accused her of being an elf - which of course ruined everything,' Thorin said, smiling at the memory. 'Frerin had a way of putting his foot in it.'

Bilbo was also smiling, enjoying seeing Thorin so mellow for once. 'And you don't?' he teased lightly, earning himself a mock scowl from Thorin.

'Of course not! I'm far too diplomatic.'

Bilbo gave a snort. 'Oh yes, because you were so diplomatic in Rivendell, weren't you?' Thorin bowed his head a little, still smiling and acknowledging defeat. 'And then later, with the whole fiasco with the Arkenstone?' Bilbo's tone remained light, but Thorin's expression immediately stiffened and the smile slipped from his face.

'Please,' he said tightly, 'don't...'

'I'm sorry,' Bilbo said, immediately apologetic. 'I didn't mean-'

'No,' Thorin cut him off. 'I can't apologise enough for the way I treated you then. I'll never forget it, and I could understand it if-'

'Thorin.' Bilbo rolled his eyes. 'I forgave you Ages ago. I didn't mean to bring it up, so please let's just forget the whole thing?' Bilbo leant forward and lay a hand on Thorin's, until the dwarf nodded slowly.

'Then I'm off to bed,' he said brightly. 'Another day of ordering stubborn dwarf Princes around again tomorrow. '

Thorin smiled, though it didn't completely reach his eyes, and assured Bilbo that Fíli and Kíli would be _much _more cooperative the next day.

As he watched the hobbit leave, he couldn't stop the niggling guilt. Bilbo may have forgiven him, but he'd never forgive himself. Not when he'd nearly caused the death of one so dear to him.

* * *

If Fíli and Kíli were surprised at their uncle entering their chamber and demanding they behave better on the morrow for "_his hobbit_", they didn't show it; but were suitably ashamed of themselves and promised to do whatever Bilbo wanted them to. Thorin left after exacting their promises and the two were left to ruminate over their uncle's choice of words.

* * *

Another month passed, during which the throne room was renovated and the Company's chambers were finished and furnished to perfection. Even Glóin and Bombur could eventually do no more to make the rooms any better for their families, and they became restless as the days passed with still no sign of them.

Bilbo observed the dwarves fondly, watching their fussing and rushing around which wasn't really so very different from the hobbit matrons back in the Shire. The thought made him chuckle to himself. But then Glóin and Bombur grew impatient and the rest of the company tense, and Bilbo found the atmosphere quite stifling. One afternoon, after nearly three months, he excused himself from afternoon tea early and made his way out onto the wall for a smoke. He'd been able to get hold of some Old Toby from the traders in Dale (which was now flourishing, thanks to Bard's efforts) and he savoured every puff of the quality tobacco.

Standing on the ramparts and puffing thoughtfully, he didn't at first see the small figure on horseback riding swiftly towards the Mountain, what with the haze of smoke surrounding him. But then he _did_, and he knew that a lone rider, going at such a break-neck speed and coming from the direction of Lake-town could only mean news.

He raced back into the Mountain, and was grateful to find the Company still seated, munching on a few biscuits.

'There's a rider,' he gasped as he barged into the dining room. 'From Lake-town.'

Silence greeted his words at first, but then there was a flurry of activity as chairs scraped back and the dwarves began rushing to the door.

'Bilbo, Balin, you will meet the rider with me,' Thorin ordered, stalking out of the room and leaving Bilbo to hurry along in his wake, shorter legs trying to match his longer strides. Bilbo was fairly out of breath by the time they reached the courtyard, the Company just behind them, where the rider was dismounting.

He was a young lad, covered in sweat and also out of breath as if he'd ridden like his life depended on it. He stumbled towards Thorin, holding a scroll. Thorin took it, trying not to let the worry show on his face. Surely nothing could have happened to them?

'A group of dwarves arrived yestereve, m'lord, and one of 'em told me to give this to you and you only,' he mumbled, exhaustion clear on his face.

'Dori, take the lad and get him something to eat and drink. Bofur, go and see the horse to the stable,' Balin ordered while Thorin slowly untied the ribbon tying the scroll. The lad murmured his thanks and Dori took him inside - most probably to fill him with chamomile tea.

_My dearest brother,_

_It is evening now and we arrived in Lake-town not an hour ago. We will rest here for tonight and leave early tomorrow, so expect us no later than nightfall. I've told the lad I'm sending this by that if he doesn't get this to you before the day is out I'll have his guts for garters - and funnily enough, he believes me. That should ensure he reaches you soon. _

_We've been travelling on horse-back, with the youngest children in a covered wagon, so I hope you've thought ahead and the stables are in good condition. You never were the best at planning in advance. _

_But truly, Thorin, it will be so good to see you again. The children are being absolute terrors in their excitement, and poor Gimli has become the unofficial babysitter, but he has adjusted to his new post admirably. Please give Fíli and Kíli my love._

_Until tomorrow, Brother,_

_Dís_

Bilbo heard Thorin snort a couple of times as he read the letter, before he stuffed it into his pocket and turned to the others.

'They will be here by evening tomorrow,' he said, and Glóin and Bombur's faces broke out into expressions of joy and relief. Bombur turned to Bifur and began signing the news to his cousin, who immediately swept Bombur into a crushing hug.

They all hurried back into the Mountain - Balin going to check on the lad in the kitchen - and preparations began in earnest. Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what else could be done, but Óin and Glóin rushed around their rooms again and Bombur hurried to the kitchens to speak to the cooks, dictating the menu for dinner the next day and the day after, ensuring only the finest food was served.

Thorin and Fíli and Kíli were also busy, and Bilbo retreated to his rooms so as not to get in the way and to simply think. He wasn't a sentimental hobbit, not really; but the impending family reunions kept reminding him of his family at home - his cousins, his aunts and uncles and most of all his mother and father. He hoped they would be proud of him, proud of what he'd done - although his mother would probably have been having kittens that she still wasn't a grandmother yet. He snorted softly at that thought. Still a bachelor at fifty-one years of age, and nothing to indicate that that was going to change any time soon.

After leaving his solitary room long enough to sniff out some dinner and ascertain that the dwarves were all busy (_Still? _he couldn't help thinking, _what on earth still needs to be done?_) As he returned from the kitchen to his room, a tray with a bowl of hot stew and some golden bread still warm from the oven in his hands and a book tucked under his arm, he nearly walked into Thorin.

'Oh! Sorry,' Bilbo apologised sheepishly as he just managed to avoid upsetting the bowl of stew.

'No harm done,' Thorin said. 'Let me carry it for you.' And before Bilbo could protest Thorin had gently tugged the tray from Bilbo's grip and had started off down the corridor. Bilbo hurried after him until they were walking side by side.

'I can't help but wonder what in Middle-earth you dwarves still need to do,' Bilbo complained. 'You're all busy, shut up in your rooms, and I've no one to talk to.'

Thorin gave a snort. 'Trust me, I would much rather have your solitude than suffer what I must. Fíli and Kíli are far too pleased about it.'

'And what is it you have to suffer?' Bilbo asked, intrigued; Thorin merely shook his head but his eyes were glinting merrily.

'You'll just have to wait and see,' he said, and smiled at Bilbo's huff. Soon they reached Bilbo's room, and he handed Bilbo the tray once the door was open.

'It'll be worth it, I promise,' he said, and Bilbo could only raise an eyebrow skeptically. 'Enjoy your dinner, Bilbo. Good night.' And with a slight bow of his head Thorin was gone, leaving Bilbo to eat dinner alone and climb into bed soon after, reading his book but his mind wandering to wonder what heinous process Thorin was undergoing, courtesy of his nephews.

* * *

Bilbo didn't see Thorin or the princes or Glóin or Bombur all the next day. He wandered around the Mountain, talking with Ori in the library and making more trips to the kitchen than was necessary even for a hobbit.

When he bumped into Balin he all but begged the old dwarf for some company, and the two went for a smoke. They sat amicably on the stone bench of one of the royal terraces, and for the second time in as many days Bilbo saw approaching riders.

He jumped up, almost spilling the tobacco from his pipe, exclaiming loudly to Balin.

'They're early,' was all Balin could say, before the two of them hurried back into the mountain to inform the others. For they were - the sun was only just beginning to sink into the sky; it was about four o'clock and they weren't expected until seven.

The dwarves rushed to change, and Bilbo followed suit, swapping his comfortable hobbit-breeches and shirt for the more formal trousers and jacket Thorin had had made for him. While obviously dwarven in make, they kept the essence of his hobbit nature in that the trousers were cut off just after the knee and the jacket had a matching waist-coat underneath, complete with golden buttons. Bilbo felt overdressed in the rich materials but when he saw the other dwarves as they congregated again in the courtyard he was reassured.

His heart nearly _stopped _when he saw Thorin. The dwarf was dressed in clothes of velvet - a deep, regal red which emphasised his dark hair - and many luscious furs. But what struck Bilbo most wasn't his clothes; it was his _hair_.

While Thorin had, for all the time Bilbo had known him, kept his hair in two very simple braids by his ears and only grown his beard once Erebor was reclaimed, now his hair was a work of art. That was the only way Bilbo could describe it; the only word for the delicately woven pattern of braids on his head. Thorin saw Bilbo's expression - Bilbo abruptly closed his mouth, which had dropped open in shock - and smiled, barely holding back laughter.

'And _that _was what you were doing last night?' Bilbo sniffed. 'No wonder it takes you dwarves so long to get ready.'

Thorin grimaced slightly. 'The boys were a little over-enthusiastic,' he admitted. ''I promise you, it was as painful as it sounds to have _them_ do this.'

'Well, it looks lovely,' Bilbo said. He was studying Glóin and Bombur, who had just joined them, and admiring their new hair- and beard-plaits and missed the funny look Thorin gave him. 'What do they mean?'

'All sorts,' Thorin explained. 'Some mean joy, some love. But the one we are all wearing - Fíli and Kíli too - this one, see? -' he pointed to an especially exquisite braid crowning his head, around and into which all the others were woven '- it means reunion. That we are being finally reunited with our loved ones.'

Bilbo could only marvel at the complexity of it all - both the beautiful braid and the subtlety of the meanings. He supposed it was like the flower language in the Shire - but that was _obvious_. _Everyone _knew that motherwort meant a concealed love.

The dwarves and Bilbo stood in the courtyard and the excitement was palpable. Glóin looked particularly emotional, as if he might burst into tears any second. Fíli and Kíli were fidgeting; next to Bilbo, Thorin remained dignified and still, but Bilbo could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

There was silence in the courtyard, until one of the sentries blew on a horn and the gates began to creak open; Bilbo felt Thorin tense up beside him, and then a stream of ponies was entering the courtyard followed by a wagon, it's roll-top cover down and a group of red-haired dwarflings inside.

There were many guards and they moved off to one side while five ponies and one pulling the wagon continued straight, heading to the group of dwarves. A dwarf with hair as black as Thorin's and a smaller, intricately braided beard was leading the way, and judging by the way Fíli and Kìli ran to the pony and were helping the rider dismount, calling 'Mother', Bilbo identified her as Dis. Really, the resemblance to Thorin was uncanny.

Glóin and Bombur were also hurrying forward, and there were many excited cries from the children as they crowded their fathers. Bilbo smiled at the sight, Dís enclosing Fíli and Kíli into a rib-cracking hug, before she drew back and head-butted them in turn. Bilbo winced at that, and felt awful for Bombur who was head-butting every one of his red-haired, twelve-strong brood. Glóin, his wife and Gimli were simply standing in a huddle, heads pressed together.

Dís released her children and Thorin stepped forward, pulling her in for a hug. Eventually he released her and they too smashed their heads together. Bilbo heard Dís laugh and tease her brother that he was getting soft. Bifur and Bofur were greeting Bombur's wife, and Bofur's hat was already being passed around by the younglings. Óin had joined his brother and family and was pulling his nephew in for a hug.

Thorin turned to Bilbo and urged him over. Nervously he stepped forward, and stood by Thorin's side. He was grateful for Thorin's warm, heavy hand gripping his shoulder. He sketched a deep bow to Dís, who was smiling at him kindly.

'So you're the halfling we must thank,' she said, and Bilbo blushed at her words. 'I knew my brother had good taste.'

Before Bilbo could inquire as to what she meant, she was suddenly gripping his shoulders and then Bilbo's vision disappeared and all he could see was white light as she bashed their foreheads together. He swayed a little on his feet, blinking until his sight returned and gingerly pressing a hand to his head. He'd have a bruise there tomorrow.

'Ow,' he muttered ruefully.

'Sorry,' Dís apologised sheepishly. 'I forgot hobbits don't have heads like stone-'

She was cut off by Thorin grabbing her arm and pulling her away, leaving Bilbo to be swept up by Fíli and Kìli as they all began to move inside. He could hear Thorin muttering, and he sounded annoyed. Dís replied, irritation making her voice louder and Bilbo heard her say, 'It's not my fault you're behaving as if you two were-' but then Fíli said something and Bilbo had to stop eavesdropping, focusing instead on the dwarf princes as they made their way to the Royal Dining Room where a meal would be set out and Bilbo could meet the other family members.

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**A/N: I hope you enjoyed! :D Thank you all so incredibly much for reading. :3**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow! I'm kind of overwhelmed by the response to this story! Thank you so much every one of you who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed this story! It means so much to me :)**

**I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

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**T**he long procession of dwarves and excitedly chattering dwarflings snaked its way through the large halls of Erebor, the stone now polished and the gems embedded in the walls glinting in the light of the torches. Dís remembered; recognised the grand chambers and stone structures of her youth, and she could only grip her brother's arm in silence as she walked through halls shrouded in memories.

Finally they reached the royal dining room, which was laid and ready but with a noticeable lack of food. Thorin apologised to the newest members of their party, explaining that their early arrival meant the meal wasn't quite ready. Still, they sat and made themselves comfortable, and Bilbo finally met his friends' families.

Glóin introduced his wife, Golma, who had a fine downy beard gracing her chin which was intricately braided and a warm smile as she greeted Bilbo. Gimli was a fine lad, the very image of his father, and he stood just taller than Bilbo. He had the beginnings of a fine beard lining his lower face - which was a rather sore point for Kíli, Bilbo suspected, judging by the glares he was sending in the younger dwarf's direction.

Bombur then took over, introducing his family. His wife, Bím, was as large as her husband but just as jolly, with a deep hearty laugh. She instantly made Bilbo feel at ease, her eyes filled with merry warmth. The pride was clear to see on her and Bombur's faces as they introduced their children. There were twelve altogether, seven lasses and five lads, and Bilbo got lost after the first six. But he smiled a lot to make up for the fact he couldn't remember their names and let them play with his curls for a while. Bilbo could see Thorin's eyes dancing in mirth at the sight. He began to blush then, and Bombur gently chivvied his children back to their seats, relinquishing Bilbo from his youngest daughter's iron grip around his middle, and Bilbo resumed his seat with Balin on one side and Dís on the other.

Very soon the first course was brought out, a light appetiser to keep them going until the main meal was ready. Slices of fluffy white bread and slivers of ham so thin they almost seemed to dissolve on the tongue. Large tankards of ale were also brought out, and Bilbo enjoyed this particularly fine brand (he judged it was made by Men, seeing as it was sweeter than most dwarves preferred). He drank a whole mug with his starter and soon found his head buzzing rather pleasantly. He declined another mug, though, opting to wait until he had something more substantial in him, before "pleasantly tipsy" became "outright drunk"; dwarf mugs weren't small, but _he_ was.

As he ate, Dís drew him into conversation, asking about his life in the Shire, the customs and traditions there and his family. She told him about her husband, who had died in the same battle as her brother, at Azanulbizar, and who Fíli favoured in looks.

'How has Thorin been?' she asked suddenly, but Bilbo was prevented from answering or asking for clarification as dinner was being served - great hunks of succulent roast beef and golden potatoes, on a bed of creamy mash and great jugs of rich, thick gravy ready to be poured. Bilbo was quite distracted from everything other than the matter at hand, and he said nothing until his plate was filled.

Thorin stood then, and gazed around the room. His eyes stopped on Dís, and he smiled.

'It is good to have my kith and kin here with us once more, in the halls of our ancestral home.' He continued, saying something in Khuzdûl which Bilbo couldn't understand, before he sat and began to eat – the cue for all the others to begin in earnest.

'What did he say, at the end?' he asked Dís.

'"Be welcome here and eat of our shared food",' she explained. 'It's an ancient Dwarvish gesture of welcome to visitors. But you never answered my question,' she complained, suddenly frowning, and Bilbo was reminded of his female Took cousins back when they were tweens. 'My brother seems different. He still looks the same – except for the grey hairs – but there's something else there too.'

She was looking at him expectantly and Bilbo didn't know what to say. How was _he_ supposed to know what Thorin was thinking? He had only known the dwarf a year, and Thorin was her brother. If anyone should know, it was her…

'I – He's just happy to see you, I expect,' Bilbo said uncertainly, glancing at Thorin, who was looking particularly fine with his braids and new cloak and he was looking in Bilbo and Dís' direction. Bilbo flushed and poured himself another mug of ale to distract himself. Dís noticed, and her frown turned thoughtful.

'Yes,' she said. 'That must be it,' and she glanced slyly at Thorin, whose features darkened for a moment before he turned to talk to Fíli, sitting beside him.

The food was good, and Bilbo found himself eating more than he normally would and indulging in more ale than he had done in a long time. His mind became slightly fuzzy but he felt so content, sitting in the warm chamber surrounded by friends and listening to their boisterous laughs as they caught up with their families after the long separation. He could hear Gimli shouting something to Óin and teasing his uncle about something or other, and Bím gently chiding her eldest boy – Belin, was it? Borin? He couldn't remember now.

He laughed along with the others as a rather unsteady Bofur got up - evidently he'd made a bet with Nori, as he was doubled up with laughter and looking very smug - and began to dance a jig, pretending he was playing on a violin. Óin joined in, putting his ear trumpet to his lips and blowing on it as if it were an actual trumpet. Even Thorin laughed at that, his whole face brightening. Bofur's words were a bit too slurred for Bilbo to make out and interspersed with a few words in Khuzdûl which he couldn't understand, but none of that mattered because Bofur tried to jump up on to his seat but missed spectacularly, falling facefirst on the table and half in Nori's lap. The two were red-faced and giggling like a pair of dwarflings, but then so were many of the dwarves.

In his slightly drunken stupor Bilbo simply observed the others. He could hear them all talking – Dís talking with Kíli on her other side and Balin next to him was talking to Dwalin. Dwalin's usually monosyllabic answers were even curter and came less often than normal, although Balin didn't seem perturbed. Interested, Bilbo's innate curiosity got the better of him and he twisted his head ever so slightly in order to hear better.

'…Sometimes, Dwalin, you've just got to do what you have to. Maybe not just yet, but at some point you'll have to tell the lad…'

'Hm.' Dwalin gave a non-committal snort at his brother's words.

'…And you know that his brothers will eventually come around. You're not such a bad sort, brother!' Balin's laugh was louder than usual and he began talking about friends back in the Blue Mountains, and Bilbo stopped listening after that.

Thorin, in contrast to Dwalin's stubborn silence, was almost jolly; brief smiles flashing out across his face as he spoke with his nephews and sister before it returned to its habitual expression – albeit slightly less stony.

Bofur and Bifur were chatting with Bombur, Bím and the children, and Bofur's hat having once more found its way onto the heads of his many nephews and nieces. Dori, Nori and Ori were chatting amicably between themselves, and occasionally with Óin, but Ori looked decidedly unhappy. He was already a quiet, solitary dwarf, Bilbo had found, but he was usually quite cheerful. He wondered what it had was that had caused him to look so melancholy, staring down into the dregs of his mug.

Bilbo sipped a little more of his ale, and felt his eyes begin to droop slightly. He settled down a little deeper in his chair and, lulled by the sound of happy laughter and chatter, he drifted off, resting his head on his forearms and nearly upsetting his mug.

* * *

Chuckles from Dís' direction alerted Thorin and he looked up, to see his sister and Balin smiling down at the sleeping form of the hobbit in between them. Dis was giggling rather drunkenly – Thorin couldn't remember when he'd last seen her that happy.

'Oh Thorin, your hobbit really is sweet!' Dis called to him. 'He reminds me of Fíli as a dwarfling, all golden and soft.'

Balin chuckled at her words, but Thorin felt only a little surge of protectiveness rise up.

'Don't tease him, Dis. He's not a child, even if to you he looks like one.' His words came out perhaps slightly sharper than he had intended, but any regret he might have felt disappeared at the sly look that appeared on Dis' face.

He stood and moved over to where Bilbo sat sleeping, and put a hand to his shoulder, causing the hobbit to wake and blink blearily.

'Come on, Bilbo,' Thorin said softly, helping him to his feet. 'I think someone's had too much ale. Let's get you to bed.'

He resolutely ignored Dis' raised eyebrow in his direction.

'I'll be back soon,' he said to her, and gently led Bilbo out of the room, leaving the warm stuffy air for the mercifully cooler corridor. Bilbo leant against him, still sleepy, and Thorin wrapped an arm around him to hold him steady when the hobbit wobbled. He was just the right height, and Thorin felt content walking the silent corridors with the hobbit in his arms.

Bilbo let out a little chuckle, and Thorin made to loosen his grip but Bilbo only leaned in closer so Thorin closed his arm tighter around Bilbo's waist.

'You'll never guess what I found out,' Bilbo murmured into Thorin's shoulder.

'What did you find out?' Thorin asked, humouring him.

'Dwalin,' Bilbo gave a little hiccup, 'likes Ori. And Ori likes him!'

'Oh really? ' Thorin asked skeptically. Dwalin was his close friend; he thought he'd know if the warrior had designs on anyone.

'Heard Balin talking to him about it. And Ori was looking anywhere except at Dwalin.'

'That doesn't mean they like each other,' Thorin said uncertainly. Did it? Was Bilbo just a bit drunk?

'Doesn't it? Well. I think they'd be a perfect couple - Ori could knit Dwalin mittens in winter and maybe even make him smile once in a while,' Bilbo said with a high-pitched giggle, swaying a little. Thorin was torn between huffing in indignation for his friend and chuckling at Bilbo's laugh. 'They're not an _obvious _couple though, are they? Dwalin a grizzled fighter and Ori all sweet and soft,' Bilbo mused, and Thorin's grip tightened ever so slightly around the hobbit just for a moment.

'No,' he agreed.

Bilbo gave a yawn and nuzzled closer to Thorin, resting his head on Thorin's shoulder and closing his eyes. If it weren't for the fact he was still on his feet, he might as well have been asleep. Eventually they reached Bilbo's rooms and Thorin helped him inside, lifting the hobbit onto his bed and making sure he was warm enough before he left.

'G'night,' he heard Bilbo mutter softly.

'Goodnight, Bilbo,' he replied quietly before shutting the door. He stood outside the hobbit's rooms for a few moments more. Perhaps the whole thing was all just the ale going to Bilbo's head; just the result of a tipsy hobbit's wild imaginings.

But maybe it was true. Maybe a grizzled old warrior and a quiet, bookish type could be together.

Maybe Thorin had a chance.

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**A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) *does a happy dance* Aaaaaaand it begins! Thorin is pining, Bilbo continues to be painfully oblivious, Dis is being her awesome self... and the Dwori starts in the next chapter! Haha :D Thank you again for reading! :3**


	4. Chapter 4: Part I

**A/N: This chapter is split into two (_14 pages_ on Microsoft Word!) So I split it into two parts to make it more manageable. Thank you all so very very much for all your lovely reviews, and for following/favouriting! It makes me so happy :)**

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**Part I**

**W**hen Bilbo woke his head was throbbing, just on this side of painful yet still very uncomfortable. He hadn't drunk that much, he didn't think, but he was unused to drinking much alcohol in one go at all. He stared up at the carved stone ceiling, but the throbbing soon became too much and with a groan he managed to pull himself up and out of bed. He was surprised to find he was still in the clothes he'd been wearing the day before, and grimaced at the now creased velvet.

He padded over softly to the door, deciding to find a servant and ask for some water and something for his head. He pulled the door open, shielding his eyes from the many torches blazing in the corridor. There was no one about – all was silent. He walked further down the corridor - still no sign of anybody. Everything was quiet from the other rooms, and the distinct lack of maids hurrying to and fro in the area indicated that everyone else was still asleep. They must have drunk a lot more than him, he supposed, for them all to be still under.

He made his way down to the kitchens, and as he passed Bombur's room he heard the sound of low chattering and he assumed that was the many little dwarflings waking. As he left the sleeping chambers behind it grew busier, and he finally reached the kitchen which was thankfully as busy as ever.

The kitchen staff smiled at him as he sat down at one of the tables. One maid approached, and when he asked for something for his head she gave a grin and hurried to fetch something, sending one of the others for a glass of hot water. When she came back she mixed some dried herbs into the hot water and dissolved them, telling Bilbo to drink it all quickly. He wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste, but did as he was told and downed it once it had cooled slightly.

'I don't suppose I could nab a bit of breakfast while I'm here, could I?' he asked hopefully as he got up, and within a few minutes he was presented with a plate of hot eggs and bacon with soft white bread. He sat and scoffed the lot, finishing in a few minutes. He would have asked for more, but while his head was still muzzy he decided not to overdo the food (he'd done that once after his coming-of-age party and it hadn't been pretty). Armed with a cup of hot, sweet tea he left the kitchen and made his way back to his room, determined to wash and change his clothes into something more comfortable and appropriate.

He sipped at the tea as he walked and felt his head begin to clear, as if previously it had been full of cotton wool that was being blown away. Tea always solved everything; that was all one needed in life, a good cup of tea... Unfortunately Bilbo was so focused on his tea he didn't notice the approaching dwarf until it was too late, and he walked straight into them, tea going everywhere in the process.

'I'm so sorry!' he gasped, but the dwarf only gave a rumble in reply. He looked up - to see a rather tired looking Thorin with a small, amused smile on his face. Bilbo let out a small huff of relief that it was only Thorin, but he still flushed to the roots of his curly hair.

'No one else was up and I needed some breakfast,' Bilbo explained hurriedly, then stopped before he began babbling. 'What are you doing up?'

'The same as you,' Thorin replied mildly. 'Getting some breakfast.'

Bilbo nodded. 'I'll come with you, then! Maybe those pastries I saw Lís preparing will be done by now.'

Thorin gave an amused chuckle and Bilbo pouted defensively. 'I'm hungry!'

Thorin raised his hands in a pacifying gesture, but the mirth still shone in his eyes. They walked baxk the way Bilbo had just come from, baxk towards the kitchens. The tea had done its job and cleared away the cobwebs from Bilbo's brain, and he really _was _hungry again - he must have slept through first breakfast and now had to make up for it.

'Are _all _the others asleep still?' Bilbo asked Thorin as they walked. At Thorin's nod of confirmation Bilbo just grinned. 'I suppose there was a lot of ale consumed last night.'

'And no small amount of it by you,' Thorin said, teasing him.

'Yes, well! It was a celebration! And at least I'm up now.'

'Indeed. Which is more than can be said for the rest of my company. In fact I wonder if Fíli and Kíli will be up at all today or be able to remember much of yesterday, they drank so much after you left last night.'

'Yes, I left early, didn't I? You forced me to!' he pointed accusingly at Thorin, who just laughed.

'You were falling asleep at the table!'

'No I wasn't. I was just resting my eyes.'

'Of course you were.' Thorin's grin as he looked at Bilbo showed how much he believed _that _story. Bilbo gave a huff but smiled in return as he conceded defeat.

'Fine, I was asleep. But I still remember everything. Like Bofur doing that ridiculous dance and Óin using his ear trumpet like a real trumpet!' Bilbo also remembered how good Thorin had looked in his fur-lined red velvet, but it seemed Thorin had had the presence of mind last night to change, as he was back in his usual dark cotton shirt.

There was something else he remembered too - something he'd heard and then spoken to Thorin about as he helped him back to his room. Who was it he'd heard? Not Dís... Balin! Who'd been speaking to -

'Dwalin!' he said out loud, stopping for a moment.

'No, I'm Thorin. Are you sure you didn't drink too much?'

'No, I mean that's the other thing! I told you about it, you remember?'

Thorin looked at him closely, and nodded slowly. 'You believe that Dwalin has feelings for Ori.'

'I don't _believe _so, I _know _so,' Bilbo said smugly. 'I don't know how I didn't notice it before. The way they always avoid each other's eye and the fact they hardly speak to each other...'

Thorin snorted. 'That doesn't seem like two people in love.'

'You obviously don't know much then,' Bilbo grinned. 'I've seen enough lads and lasses in the Shire start off like that, then six months later they're exchanging vows.' He smiled. 'Apparently my father could barely speak to my mother the first time they met, he was so nervous. He bungled it up asking to court her, too, when he finally plucked up the nerve. Which is _why _I intend to help.'

'Bilbo! You can't just barge in and - and get them together!' Thorin sounded shocked.

'No, of course not. I'll just be here giving them a nudge in the right direction. I can be subtle, you know.'

Thorin's raised eyebrow said he didn't believe that at all.

'They won't appreciate it, Bilbo. You have to give them time.' Thorin's voice held a note of warning, but Bilbo either didn't notice or ignored it.

'Well I know you dwarves live for a very long time but we hobbits _don't_, not compared to you, and I'll cut off my curls before I miss a wedding because they took so long to admit their feelings!'

Thorin looked shocked at that blunt reminder, and strangely hurt. His gaze never left Bilbo, and the hobbit shrugged in discomfort.

'You're right. But Bilbo?'

'Yes?'

'Don't hurt them.'

* * *

A week passed and the new arrivals settled in well. Dís seemed taken with Bilbo and always made sure he was seated next to her at dinner, plying him with questions about anything and everything. Bilbo wasn't entirely sure how to feel about all the attention, but Dís was nice and he grew friendly with her. He didn't notice the frowns Thorin sent in his sister's direction when the two of them were seated at the table, giggling away at something one or the other had said. Bilbo especially enjoyed it when Dís told him stories about her childhood and invariably tales about a stubborn young dwarf prince would arise.

Dwalin and Ori continued to skirt around each other. Bilbo honestly wondered how he had never noticed it before: the young scribe would lift his large brown eyes to the grizzled old warrior, who more often than not was staring at him with dark eyes almost set in a scowl, and Ori would immediately drop his gaze and blush furiously. If either of his brothers asked him the matter, he would blame it on his newest cardigan being too warm or the food being too hot (the time he claimed he had a headache, Dori had bundled the lad out of the door to his bedroom and Dwalin really _had _been scowling then!).

One afternoon before Bilbo made his way to the kitchen for afternoon tea as he wandered around a little aimlessly, he bumped into Balin, whose face was hidden behind a stack of papers.

'Hullo, Bilbo,' Balin greeted him, looking a little flustered.

'Where are you off to with those?' Bilbo asked, indicating the old and yellowing parchments in Balin's arms.

'I'm returning them to the library. I really need an apprentice of some sort to do the fetching and carrying for me, but until then...' Balin gave a little laugh.

'I can take them,' Bilbo offered. 'I need to work up an appetite for my afternoon tea - Ním promised me some cinnamon biscuits today.'

Balin's eyes twinkled as he smiled. 'Well in that case... Would you? It's very kind of you, Bilbo.'

'Of course! No problem at all,' Bilbo grinned, and proceeded to manoeuvre the stack into his arms. The white-haired dwarf gave him a pat on the shoulder and a smile before walking off.

'You deserve all the cinnamon biscuits you can get for doing this!' he called to Bilbo, who waved a wrist as he turned to make his way to the library. He hummed a little as he walked, the corridors so large and empty that he felt small. He stopped when he heard voices, and paused to see who it was. He smiled when he saw Dwalin and Bofur approach, Bofur with a pipe clenched tightly in hids teeth as he talked with Dwalin. At the sight of the tattooed dwarf, Bilbo had an idea.

'Dwalin, Bofur,' he greeted them with a smile. 'Dwalin, I don't suppose you could help me with these? I'm returning them to the library for your brother.'

Dwalin gave a gruff nod and took the top half of the stack, and Bilbo smiled gratefully; Bofur then piped up 'let me help too!' and pulled the rest of the papers from Bilbo's arms. The three of them set off again to the library and they eventually reached the large carven doors, twice the size of Dwalin and decorated with geometric shapes cut into the stone. Bilbo pushed open the door and held it open for the others to pass through.

'Ori? I've got some papers for you!' Bilbo called out to the large room, filled with shelves which were in turn stacked with scrolls and boxes of papers and books. It smelt damp and musty after being neglected for so long but Ori was slowly beginning to set it to rights, with the help of some of the scribes from the Iron Hills.

A loud crash and a whispered curse sounded to their right.

'Bilbo? Is that you? I just dropped a book - oh. Hello, Mr Dwalin, Mr Bofur...' Ori had appeared from behind a shelf, and was now standing there covered in dust with a book in his hand, staring at the little group in front of him.

'From Balin. He wanted to return these to you,' Bilbo smiled brightly at the youth, who was standing there silently.

'Oh. Yes. Well, er, this way...' Ori motioned for them to follow him, so they did; Dwalin walking stiffly behind Bilbo and Ori with his head down. Bofur was too busy chewing on his pipe to notice much.

They reached the shelf where the papers lived and Ori pointed out their box, then he looked around before muttering to himself. 'Hammers, I've left the stool by the desk. I'll be back in a moment -'

'Don't worry, Dwalin can reach the box. Can't you, Dwalin?' Bilbo asked the silent towering dwarf beside him, who grunted and set his stack of papers down on the nearest available surface - Bilbo's arms. Clutching the papers, Bilbo smirked as Ori resolutely tried not to look at the way Dwalin's muscles rippled as he stretched up to reach the box.

When he'd got it down and handed it to Ori, Bilbo handed his papers back to Dwalin and took Bofur's, placing them quickly in the box and then turning away, grabbing Bofur by the arm and pulling him away.

'So sorry, Ori, but I can't be late for my afternoon tea - the biscuits' ll burn if I'm not there soon! Thanks for the help carrying those, Dwalin. See you both at dinner!'

And with that he and Bofur left a pair of stunned dwarves staring after them, both with their arms full and confused expressions on their faces.

Once outside, Bilbo broke into laughter while Bofur regarded him curiously.

'What was that all about?' he asked, tucking his now-empty pipe into his jacket. Bilbo just shushed him and pulled him around the corner, peering round it so he could see the door. 'We'll give it five minutes,' he muttered.

'Give _what _five minutes?' Bofur asked, but Bilbo ignored him because at that moment Dwalin exited the library, storming out of the doors in a hurry.

'Oh bother,' Bilbo sighed. 'That wasn't what I'd hoped for.'

'Will you please explain to me what's going on, Bilbo?' Bofur asked, exasperated but a fond smile on his face as he tugged at one of Bilbo's curls.

Bilbo huffed as he pushed Bofur's hand away, but then he smiled impishly.

'Bofur, would you care for some afternoon tea?'

* * *

'_No_! Are you sure? I thought it was just that his cardigans were too warm.' Bofur's voice was full of surprise, and Bilbo had to resist the urge to smack his own face.

'Honestly, it's a wonder how you dwarves ever get married at _all _! You honestly haven't noticed? '

Bofur looked defensive for a moment as he replied, 'Well, it's not like I've met that many dwarrowdams so I wouldn't know the signs. And Bombur just asked Bím outright.'

Bilbo slumped on the table, reaching for another biscuit. Ním really was an excellent cook - these biscuits rivalled his grandmother's.

'Yes, well, I'm telling you that those two have a thing for each other! But you can't tell anyone else,' Bilbo warned, and Bofur nodded. Bilbo leaned in closer. 'The reason I got Dwalin to help me carry those papers and I left early - it's to, you know, help them on their way a bit. I thought maybe if they were on their own for a bit-'

'But looks like you're wrong, then,' Bofur frowned. 'Dwalin left pretty quickly.'

'That's exactly why I'm _right_,' Bilbo corrected. 'He left _too _quickly - as if he was too embarrassed or shy to stay with Ori alone! If he didn't like him, he would have stayed to help Ori properly and he wouldn't have been so flustered when he left.'

Enlightenment was slowly beginning to gleam in Bofur's eyes, and he twiddled his moustache thoughtfully.

'Aye, I see it now...' He sent Bilbo a grin almost as cheeky as the one Bilbo had given him before. 'But this plan didn't work, so what'll you do now?'

'I'll think of something.' Bilbo wasn't entirely sure _what _he was going to do, but he knew inspiration would strike. He took the last biscuit and chewed thoughtfully, before asking what the time was.

'Enough time for a smoke before dinner!' he exclaimed, and he and Bofur headed up to find a balcony they could sit on and watch the sun begin to sink behind the clouds.

* * *

**A/N: Part 2 will be up soon! :D ****I hope you enjoyed! :3**


	5. Chapter 4: Part II

**A/N: Here's Part 2! Hope you enjoy... Heheheh :D There's fluff and feels in this one, guys. Just warning you... :P**

* * *

When the sun was finally hidden behind the line of the horizon leaving only a faint pink lightness in the now dark sky, Bilbo and Bofur headed back inside, making for the dining room.

'Remember Bofur - don't tell anyone. Not a soul. Yes?'

Bofur nodded, a sly grin still slipping over his face.

'And act _normal,_ by Yavanna! Well, normal for you anyway,' Bilbo smirked.

'Cheeky,' Bofur grinned, giving Bilbo a poke, making him laugh.

They reached the dining room and took their places as they waited for the rest of the Company and their families to arrive,which they did in drips and drabs. Dwalin and Balin arrived - Bilbo had to kick Bofur underneath the table and send him a warning look - then Óin, Glóin and his family, and so on. The Ri brothers eventually came in and Dori was sporting a new coat - knitted, with a trim of his favourite plum purple colour.

'Dori, that jumper is fabulous,' Bilbo exclaimed as Dori took his seat. Dori smiled at the compliment, and patted Ori beside him.

'Ori made it. Knitted it himself, he did -' he paused as Thorin, Fíli, Kíli and Dís entered, then continued '- and he made one for Nori too.' Dori's chest puffed out with pride, while Ori just looked like he wanted to disappear as everyone admired his work.

'Why aren't you wearing yours, Nori?' Bofur teased, and Nori punched Bofur on the arm, which served to make Bofur laugh even harder, his guffaws filling the room as the younger of Bombur's children began copying Nori and punching their siblings, much to their parents' dismay and everyone else's amusement. Even the red-faced Ori smiled.

Then Bilbo said it.

'Are you making them for everyone? Because Dwalin insists on going around with bare arms, but maybe he'd wear something if _you_ made it.'

He flashed a winning smile, but faltered as the room fell silent. He glanced around at the faces all looking at him - Bofur with amusement, Dori looking thunderstruck, Thorin looking uncertain as to whether he should look amused or disapproving, and Ori was squirming in discomfort.

The silence was broken by Dís breaking into laughter, clutching at her belly as she laughed. Balin was chuckling too, and Dwalin was glaring at him.

Balin put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and leant in closer. The others began laughing and talking amongst themselves while Balin whispered to Bilbo.

'D'ye know, I've never seen my brother more discomfited! D'ye know what you just proposed?' the old dwarf said kindly, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth. Bilbo shook his head. 'By suggesting that young Ori knit my brother something, you were suggesting he give him a _courting _gift! Dwarves only give the fruits of their skills to family members, or sell them. They only gift something to the one they wish to court and eventually marry. So ye see,' he said, laughter clear in his face, 'why the others found it funny.'

Bilbo hadn't realised the significance of what he'd said... A courting gift, indeed! He looked Balin in the eye then, and lowered his voice.

'But Balin, between you and me, wouldn't that be..._appropriate_, in this case?'

Balin's gaze sharpened. 'So you know?'

Bilbo snorted. 'Anyone could see it. Well, anyone who's not a dwarf, it seems. '

Balin smiled a little at that, but when he next spoke it was with a warning. 'Best it stay that way for now, laddie. You can't rush these things.'

He drew away and smiled at the others, who had finished chuckling, and clapped his brother on the back (which did nothing to clear Dwalin's scowl). Bofur and Nori were distracting Ori and Dori was sitting in silence, observing Dwalin sharply. Bilbo supposed he'd better apologise to Ori and Dwalin (although he wasn't _really _sorry) and say something to placate Dori - because Dwalin would never make a move, ever, if Dori's cat-sharp scrutiny was focused on him like that the while time.

Dís ruffled Bilbo's hair and he grinned at her. 'Honestly, I'd forgotten how fun it was to have non-dwarves living with us,' she said fondly. 'Our customs are so numerous and so obscure it's hard to _not _to do something like that!'

Bilbo just ducked his head and grinned into his mug of ale. He hoped he hadn't just made things worse for Ori and Dwalin... But judging by the way Ori kept shooting tentative little glances in Dwalin's direction, he guessed it was only a minor setback.

Kíli had left his usual spot next to Thorin and was instead next to Gimli, the two having an animated conversation about something they'd done together back in the Blue Mountains, interspersed with rather heated interruptions from Fíli. Bilbo caught Thorin's eye, and the dwarf gestured for Bilbo to sit in Kíli's seat next to him. Bilbo did so, feeling Dís' eyes follow him as he joined Thorin.

'What was that all about?' Thorin asked when Bilbo was seated.

'It was just a suggestion!' Bilbo said heatedly. 'Honestly, I didn't know that just by _giving _someone something you've made it means you're _courting _them.' Valar, if that was the case, he was courting at least fifty hobbits back home in the Shire. Now wouldn't his mother laugh at that! Fifty hobbits and...

He looked away.

Thorin's blue eyes looked at him searchingly, and Bilbo began to feel a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. Thorin then just as abruptly looked away, looking back at the table and the dwarves surrounding it. The food still hadn't arrived, and Bilbo's stomach gave a small rumble.

'It wasn't appropriate,' Thorin said, not looking at him.

Bilbo felt the heat of indignation at those words flare in his belly - how was he to have known? No one had told him! The injustice of it coupled with the lingering embarrassment prickled at his skin, and he scraped back his chair. He was overreacting, he knew, but he didn't want to stay here any longer.

'Where are you going? Sit down.' Bilbo bridled at Thorin's tone, as if he were a disobedient dwarfling in need of discipline.

'I'm not hungry any more.'

Thorin looked at him disbelievingly. 'I heard your stomach rumble.'

'I need the loo.'

'You could have gone before.'

Bilbo just turned on his heel and stormed off, heading to the kitchen to find some food there instead of suffering Thorin's disapproval. Ním presented him with a fine stew and some iced biscuits for afters, but his heart wasn't in it and he only managed three before retiring to his bedroom and burrowing deep under the fur covers before falling asleep.

* * *

As Bilbo left the room, remorse flooded through Thorin. He hadn't meant to make him upset - only to warn him, or _something_ - he wasn't even sure any more. With the empty seat beside him, Thorin regretted his words. Of course he couldn't have expected Bilbo to know.

He gave a sigh, ignoring Dís when she came to sit next to him, instead focusing on the food which was being brought in. He told the servant carrying the bowl of mutton to make sure enough was set aside for Bilbo and taken to his rooms, should he decide he wanted something to eat and had been too stubborn to go to the kitchens.

He chewed listlessly on the mutton, thinking it would taste infinitely better if Bilbo was beside him, when Dís spoke up.

'Well, brother? Something about this has got to you. What is it?'

'Nothing.'

He could feel Dís giving him what Bilbo had nicknamed the 'Durin stare', and the thought made him feel worse. He set down his cutlery.

'Thorin, I _will_ find out one way or another, but it's best if you just tell me.'

Thorin gave an irritated sigh and put a hand to his forehead. Dís was a headache if ever there was one; he knew she was right.

'I was just a bit harsh with Bilbo,' he said evasively. 'I expected him to know something he had no reason to.'

There was a pause for a moment. 'Something you _wish _he knew.' Dís sounded smug like a cat who'd got the cream.

He didn't answer and her gleeful silence told him she took that as confirmation. 'Well, what is it he gave you?'

Thorin ignored her question.

'Oh, come on, Thorin. You wouldn't be this tetchy if he'd - if he'd impugned Dwalin's or Ori's honour - which he hasn't, by the way - but you still wish he knew of this custom. Ergo he's given you something, not realising the significance. So what was it?'

Thorin remained stubbornly silent for a few moments, but then he pushed his plate away and rested his head in his hands, not looking at Dís.

'One evening, we were reading together. He likes to come and sit with me sometimes, and this time was no different to any other. I got up to get a drink, and he got up too. He was looking embarassed - shuffling his feet, like he does - and held out a booklet to me. "I want you to have this", he said to me. It was a little book he'd made, full of sketches and poems he'd written and composed on the journey.'

Dís said nothing.

'So I accepted it, knowing it was given in friendship and nothing more; but still a part of me had still hoped. Now I know that hope was foolish,' he finished bitterly. He looked at Dís, who gave him a sad smile and took his hand.

'I don't think so. No hope is ever foolish.'

* * *

Bilbo woke feeling miserable. He had hardly been able to sleep all that night, and when he had it was full of dreams of eyes filled with scorn and a disapproval that made him feel sick to his stomach. He coccooned himself in his blankets, unwilling to get up and start the day. Perhaps if anyone came knocking he could plead a headache and he could just stay there for the day, safe in his little nest.

He reached for a book, intending to read and take his mind off things. He wasn't sure how long he read for, but eventually he turned the last page and he had no new material. He heaved a sigh, shutting the book and rolling out of bed. He could at least get dressed.

He pulled on his clothes and brushed his hair and teeth, feeling refreshed and slightly better. He walked over to his desk, and was just sitting down when there was a knock on his door. He paused.

'Bilbo?'

Oh sweet Eru. It was Thorin. Bilbo really didn't feel like talking to him right now. He ignored the knock, but he was still frozen in place, listening intently.

There was a pause for a while, then Thorin's voice sounded again.

'Bilbo, if you're in there, I want to talk to you. I'm sorry about yesterday and I understand if you're upset with me, but can we at least talk?'

No, actually. Bilbo didn't want to talk to him.

There was a _thud _on the wooden door, as if Thorin had slumped his head against it. The thought made Bilbo feel strangely guilty, but he still said nothing.

'Fine. Come and find me when you're ready, Bilbo.'

Silence once more. Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief, breathing easier now Thorin was gone. He felt a small amount of pleasure knowing that proud Thorin had stooped to speaking through a door just to talk to him, but mostly he felt bad at over-reacting so much. Well, if Thorin was going to treat him like a child, then he was going to act like one - and sulking was first on the agenda.

At first his new found freedom was fun - but it quickly grew boring. There was only so much he could do, holed up in his bedroom on his own. And anyway, he was hungry. So Bilbo stole down to the kitchens, using the quiet corridors and hoping against hope that he wouldn't bump into Thorin - or Dís, for that matter. Or Fíli or Kíli. Or Balin - essentially he hoped to reach the kitchens undetected. Which, to his surprise and delight, he did. He begged some food from Ním, the wonderful head cook who had developed a soft spot for him, scrounging some bread and cheese and a few crunchy green apples; but he didn't stay in the kitchens. If anyone realised he'd left his bedroom, this would be the first place they'd check, so he left the kitchen and pondered where he could go.

Not the library - also an obvious place to go.

Not outside for a smoke - Bofur or Balin would be able to find him; and anyway, he'd left his pipe in his room.

That didn't leave him much choice. He'd go to the armoury, secret himself in a little niche with a book and hide there for the rest of the day. He'd have to make a detour to the library, but it'd be worth it.

Reaching the armoury with a book tucked under one arm and his precious supply of food clutched in his hands, he proceeded to find a spot well away from the door and well-hidden, and he began to read. The book had been one he'd picked up at random, sneaking in then out without even Ori seeing him. It was a little dry - dwarven politics in the early Third Age - but interesting enough that he read for several hours on end, stopping only when his eyes began to droop and his stomach was growling horribly.

Picking himself up and dusting off his clothes, he left the armoury and hurried to the kitchen, where Ním and Lís proceeded to fill him up with a hot chicken stew full of beans and soft meat; both women were amazed that he'd even managed to last the day on what little food he'd eaten, considering how much he ate normally.

When he'd had enough he thanked them and left, heading back to his own chamber. He was pleasantly sleepy, if a little stiff from sitting hunched up the entire afternoon. He made it back to his room without incident, however, and he flopped down on the bed fully clothed and fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning with pillow lines on his face and his clothes stuck to him most unpleasantly. Hastily he shed them and washed himself at the washstand, rubbing away the grit and dirt of sleep until he felt clean. He dressed in fresh clothes and decided to go to the library - after first getting breakfast, of course. He could get Ori to pretend he wasn't there, he was sure; Ori was a friend.

After a breakfast of boiled eggs and golden toast, Bilbo entered the library.

'Bilbo! Everyone was worried about you yesterday, after you disappeared!' Ori was regarding him reproachfully. He smiled sheepishly.

'Yes, well, here I am now! I want to stay in here and help you today, but... If anyone asks where I am, can we pretend I'm...not here?'

Ori nodded - he'd sought refuge away from Dori's sometimes smothering attention when he was younger. Bilbo smiled gratefully and clapped his hands together.

'Great! What can I do?'

Ori directed him to a shelf which was filled haphazardly with boxes of papers and scrolls, all chucked on any which way. Ori asked him to begin by just removing them; they could be sorted and replaced afterwards. Bilbo began, carefully removing the boxes one by one, trying to avoid creating an avalanche. Ori was nearby, working on another shelf, and he'd given Bilbo the stool so he could reach the higher shelves. They worked in companiable silence for an hour or so, and Bilbo had sorted the lower shelves and was now moving onto the higher ones. He didn't like the stool, rickety as it was, and more than once it wobbled dangerously.

One time, however, it wobbled and Bilbo cast out a hand to the shelf to steady himself as he nearly slipped off. Shutting his eyes tight he called out, 'Ori?'

But then the nightmare began. The shelf began to topple forwards - onto Bilbo. He could feel himself falling backwards, he was going to be crushed -

'Bilbo!'

He heard his name being called and then felt something push him and he was on the floor, coughing in the dust but unharmed as something crashed behind him. Whirling around he saw the wreckage of the shelf - and Ori underneath it.

'Oh sweet Valar, _no_,' he moaned, and began to dig Ori out of the splintered wood wreckage. His hand touched something warm and sticky and red. 'Merciful Yavanna...'

He breathed deep, trying to clear his head. He managed to clear Ori's top half, freeing his torso and head, on which there was a nasty gash pouring out blood.

'Ori? Ori, can you hear me?' No response. Bilbo dithered for a moment - should he stay with Ori? But he needed help - Where were the lads who were supposed to help Ori?

Pulling the wreckage off Ori's legs he ran to the door, wrenching it open and calling for help. He stopped a servant passing by.

'Get Thorin and Dori - Ori's hurt - blood -'

The servant immediately ran to fetch them, and Bilbo stood on shaky legs. He should have got Óin instead, not Dori, who'd only panic...

'Steady there lad,' a voice came from behind him and a large hand touched his shoulder. He started, turning to see who it was.

'Dwalin! Please - Ori's hurt -'

'Ori?' If Bilbo hadn't been panicking himself, he would have felt a little smug satisfaction at the panic crossing Dwalin's face, especially when he saw the red on Bilbo's hand. He turned and raced into the library, Bilbo following after him. Dwalin was clearing the wreckage well away from Ori, smoothing the hair away from his bloody forehead and muttering something.

Another warm hand touched Bilbo's shoulder for the second time - Thorin.

'We've got Óin,' he murmured; sure enough the grey haired dwarf rushed past and began checking Ori while Dori watched, fretting and in tears. Óin ordered Dwalin to carry the young scribe, and he and Dori followed Dwalin to the nearest chamber. Bilbo could have collapsed into Thorin then, but he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and the two waited outside the chamber, not wanting to get in the way. Neither of them said anything, but Bilbo was content to just hold onto Thorin while they waited.

The silence was loud in Bilbo's ears and he spoke, his voice breaking slightly.

'It's my fault. He got me out of the way and now-'

Thorin shushed him and merely tightened his arm around Bilbo.

Soon Óin came out and told them Ori was alright but still sleeping and they could see him if they wanted. Bilbo went in and joined Dwalin and Dori in their silent vigil. Now Ori wasn't going to die, he could appreciate the way Dwalin sat tense and immobile, staring at the gently sleeping figure, while Dori fidgeted and fluttered in his chair. Now that the panic and adrenaline had worn off, Bilbo felt bone-tired, but he stayed to watch and wait for Ori to wake. This mess was his fault, after all.

The others began to arrive at the door, alerted to Ori's accident. As the noise outside grew louder, Ori's eyelids began to flutter and he began to shift and fidget. Finally he opened his eyes, the large brown orbs fuzzy with sleep, but focused on one person as he smiled softly.

'Dwalin,' he breathed.

The warrior smiled, his whole countenance lightened at hearing his name uttered from Ori's lips.

'Ori? What - what's going on?' Dori was demanding, confusion clear in his face which began to turn to outrage when Dwalin took Ori's hand. Thankfully Óin pressed a calming hand to Dori's shoulder and ushered him outside, smiling wryly as he prevented Dori from ripping Dwalin apart.

'Don't think your brother will appreciate you tearing his One into shreds, now, will he?' Óin said with gentle amusement. Bilbo got to his now steadier feet and followed them out, leaving Dwalin and Ori together.

'His One? What do you mean, Ori's _One_?' came Nori's indignant voice. Someone explained to him and the hall was suddenly filled with Nori's cackles of mirth as he clapped his older brother on the back, who was now looking rather shell-shocked and forlorn.

Bilbo felt Thorin's eyes on him and he moved to stand next to the dwarf.

'It appears you were right,' Thorin said, a hint of a smile ghosting the corners of his mouth.

'Of course I was,' Bilbo replied tiredly, sending Thorin a small smile in return. He didn't notice that Thorin's smile grew wider as he glanced at the door, behind which his warrior friend was finally finding his love in a quiet and bookish type.

Yes, Thorin was decidedly more optimistic, especially as _his _quiet, bookish type leant softly against him and rested his head of curls on Thorin's shoulder.

* * *

**A/N: Eeep. What did you think? Heheh. Now Dwalin and Ori are finally together, but Thorin is still pining for his hobbit... (I'm so sorry not sorry about that.) *evil laugh*. Don't worry, there's plenty of fluff in the next few chapters to offset the little drama here :D I really hope you enjoyed this, and don't forget to review! XD**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Because you're all so lovely, have another chapter! This one's a bit of a filler chapter and not much really happens but it sets up everything else. So I hope you enjoy! (And I do apologise that this one's nowhere near as exciting as the other chapters! But there are some Thilbo moments - kind of...)**

* * *

Ori was well on the way road to recovery when Bilbo made his peace with Thorin. He was embarrassed at his childish behaviour and ashamed that it had caused his friend injury, so Bilbo set aside his hobbit pride and sought out Thorin, who had been spending much time with Dwalin as of late. He found him in his chamber, though, sitting with a mug of ale and staring broodily into the flames of the fire flickering in the grate. Bilbo shut the door quietly behind him, and Thorin turned at the small thud as it closed. When he saw Bilbo he gave a small smile, which Bilbo returned readily. He sat down in the chair next to Thorin, joining him in staring in to the fire.

'Why are you nervous?' Thorin's deep voice came from beside him; he sounded lightly amused.

'I'm not nervous,' Bilbo replied.

'Yes you are. You're tapping your foot and you only do that when you're nervous.'

Bilbo immediately stopped tapping his foot on the floor – he hadn't even noticed he was doing it – and turned to Thorin. 'I wanted to say sorry for behaving like I did - for storming out and avoiding you. It was childish and silly and I'm sorry,' he said in a rush, feeling slightly put off by Thorin's crystal sharp and unblinking gaze on his face.

Thorin didn't say anything but he smiled, a true smile, warm and happy and Bilbo felt his own face mirror Thorin's. He leant back into the soft cushions of the chair, surprised at how much better he felt, how much tension had left his shoulders. Thorin didn't need to say anything for Bilbo to know he was forgiven.

'How about a mug of ale?' Thorin asked suddenly, pushing himself up out of his armchair and striding over to the decanter on the mantelpiece and pouring another cup for Bilbo. He handed it to the hobbit and settled himself back down. He was almost drunk with relief that Bilbo had come to him – as if the hobbit needed forgiveness! Thorin was the one who should be apologising, for he had been too harsh; he had learned his lesson, though, when Bilbo had refused to speak to him the day after. He had known Bilbo was there, in his room, listening to him but refusing to answer. He supposed he hadn't deserved anything else, but now he was perfectly content just being here and sitting with his hobbit.

Bilbo gave as small chuckle. 'Do you know how hard it was to ignore you when you came to speak to me? It was incredibly distracting knowing you were just on the other side of the door.'

Thorin looked up at Bilbo, sitting next to him with a bright smile on his face as he stared into the flames, feeling his heart tug. Truly, Bilbo's smile was like glimpsing into the Halls of Mahal themselves. At Bilbo's words, he felt that treacherous hope rise up in him again, surging up and threatening to overspill before he swiftly crushed it. Bilbo would have found _anyone's_ presence a distraction; it didn't mean anything.

But that fact didn't stop Thorin from admiring Bilbo's bright emerald eyes, or the way the firelight transformed his hair into strands of spun gold.

* * *

When Ori walked into the breakfast room the next day, resting his hand lightly on Dwalin's arm as his only support, a great commotion sounded as everyone tried to congratulate the pair properly. Dori only looked miserable. Ori and Dwalin finally managed to sit down at their places and everyone resumed eating and talking. Bombur was having trouble getting his dwarflings to stop stealing Bofur's hat (honestly, Bilbo thought, it was incredibly amusing how fascinated they were by it) and Dís and Balin were having an animated conversation about something or other. Dís was laughing at something Balin had said, and the older dwarf was grinning merrily like a dwarrow half his age at her loud chuckles. But what was commanding Bilbo's attention was a different pair of dwarves entirely.

Bofur was keeping half an eye on his hat but mostly he was teasing Nori, who was sitting beside him, about Ori.

'Yer little brother's all grown up, Nori! Found his One!'

Nori was just smiling as he ignored Bofur, continuing to eat his breakfast.

'Now Dori's just got to worry about _you_ finding _yours_!' Bofur teased.

'Shut up!' Nori laughed, and he gave Bofur a cuff on the head, which Bofur ducked to avoid and returned in kind, displacing one of the points of Nori's elaborate hairstyle. Bofur looked slightly guilty but was still laughing while Nori looked like he was about to retaliate, but stopped as Bombur glared at him when the children started copying them.

'I'll get you back,' Nori whispered to Bofur, who only laughed loudly and Nori grinned.

Thorin saw Bilbo looking at the two thoughtfully, a little frown creasing his forehead as he observed. Thorin thought he knew where this was going.

Dís was leaning towards him now. 'Are we going to have a party to celebrate our newest couple?' she asked, looking hopeful. Fíli and Kíli looked up, expectant expressions on their faces too. Thorin shrugged.

'If people want to have one. If _Ori and Dwalin_ want to have one, we can have a party,' he stipulated. Ori was a quiet soul and Dwalin wasn't good at being in the spotlight so there would only be a party if they decided they wanted one.

Dís immediately stood up.

'I'd like to announce that there will be a celebratory party for Dwalin and Ori!' she said to the room at large. 'Well, if you two would like one,' she added as an afterthought, nodding to the now-red-faced Ori and Dwalin. Thorin heaved a sigh; of course Dís would do that! But when Ori and Dwalin agreed that they would very much like a party, Thorin couldn't be angry at her. Especially when she took on the role as Official Party Planner, appointing Dori, Golma and Bím as her deputies, and taking all responsibility off Thorin. He felt eyes on him and looked up to see Bilbo smiling at him amusedly, his little crooked grin practically stopping his heart.

He excused himself from the table and went to see Lorin, the dwarf in charge of those refurbishing Erebor, who had requested a meeting.

* * *

Bilbo watched as Thorin left the room. He had his political face on, the one he used when he had business to attend to; it was almost mask-like in its lack of emotion but Bilbo knew the smiles that would sometimes break out across Thorin's face. Thorin smiled so rarely that when he did, it was like watching the sun break through the grey and miserable clouds in the depths of winter.

Some of Bombur's children had brought out some sort of game, small tiles with letters on them which they were sorting into words. It seemed the child who managed to create the longest word won, and there were many cries of alternating excitement and disappointment as each child won or lost. Bilbo remembered playing similar games as a child, and wandered over to watch them play. Bombur's youngest daughter - Bani, Bilbo could now remember - looked up at him and grinned.

'Will you play with us, master Bilbo?'

Bilbo smiled back and knelt down to join them on the floor. Some of the others were looking on, so Bilbo said, 'why don't we all play?'

The dwarflings immediately began bouncing up and down -'I want to be on Bilbo's team!' 'So do I!' - and Fíli and Kíli were, unsurprisingly, the first to agree. Gimli sighed and at their insistence joined too, joining them on their team. Bofur and Nori agreed, and made a pair, Dís and Balin making a team, and Ori and Dwalin offered to let Dori join theirs but he declined and said he'd help Bifur. Bombur and Bím said they'd act as judges - because there'd be need of one sooner or later, Bombur assured them.

They relocated the game to the table to accommodate all the players - Bilbo was on a team with Bani and Borin - and the tiles were divided up between them.

'Can I ask that we only use Westron words?' Bilbo asked as he and the dwarflings studied their tiles. 'Only I don't speak Khuzdûl.'

The others chuckled but readily agreed.

'After all, we must give our Mister Baggins a fighting chance,' Bofur chuckled, and Bilbo just made a face at him good-naturedly. They studied their tiles a while longer, Bilbo pleased as he could spell _hobbit _from their set.

'What's a hobbit?' Bani asked him, looking confused.

'Erm... _I'm_ a hobbit,' he said, and she immediately looked happier. But then a frown appeared.

'But Papa just used to call you a burglar.'

Bilbo heaved a sigh, and explained that he'd been the burglar on the exciting journey her Papa had gone on, while the others had all been the brave warriors.

When it was time to reveal the words, Bilbo's word made everyone chuckle but it wasn't enough to win as Dori had managed _erudite_.

The next round Bilbo managed _garden_, then won the next with _maudlin_, but the third round had him stumped. He just couldn't think of anything .

_F , U, D, X, N, R, O, L..._

He stared at the letters, squinting as if they would transform themselves in front of him. He heard giggling and looked up, to see Bofur and Nori laughing. He looked back down at his letters, and grinned.

The others revealed their words - _weather, beard, candle_... Bilbo revealed his word, smiling innocently.

_Nofur._

The others all frowned, staring at the word.

'Does that word exist?' asked Dori.

'Maybe it's hobbitish?' Ori supplied helpfully.

'Hobbits speak Westron,' Bilbo corrected.

'It's almost Uncle Bofur's name!' one of Bombur's other children suddenly laughed.

'But it's got an N. N for Nori!' Bani giggled, grinning at her uncle, who was sitting stock still staring at Bilbo's word. Nori was bright red and looking at anywhere except Bofur or Bilbo. There was silence while everyone waited for either of the two to say something, _anything_; but neither did anything other than avoid the other's gaze.

Bombur broke the silence. 'Well I don't think that's actually a real word, so I'll have to declare you forfeit, Bilbo; sorry...'

Bilbo's grin had slid from his face at the lack of response from either Nori or Bofur, but he forced a smile up and managed a small chuckle, appearing unconcerned as he graciously retired from the game. He only seemed to be hurting people at the moment, or making them uncomfortable; but the more he thought about it the more he realised...

If Nori and Bofur were merely friends and weren't affected in the slightest they'd have sat and laughed about it. And once Bilbo realised that, he knew with a certainty that their silence spoke volumes.

Nori and Bofur were in love, and it was not unrequited.

* * *

After the game finished everyone dispersed, Bofur hurrying out of the room quickly. Bilbo felt a little trickle of guilt seep in and settle in his stomach as Nori watched him go but made no move to follow. Bilbo left the room soon after. He felt too restless to sit and read and the little pebble of guilt sitting heavy in his stomach meant he couldn't settle to anything. He wandered the halls of Erebor, not entirely sure where he was going but just walking.

He travelled further down into the Mountain and stopped outside a door. He pushed it open and saw Thorin seated at a long stone table, a dwarf talking in rapid Khuzdûl and pointing things out on a scroll of parchment.

'Oh,' Bilbo said before he could quietly back out and pretend he wasn't there. 'Sorry.'

Trust him to have found his way to the room where Thorin was holding his important meeting - out of all the rooms in Erebor he managed to find this one! His face was flaming as he tried to back out.

'Bilbo!' Thorin said, looking up at him with such relief at the interruption that Bilbo would have laughed if he hadn't been so embarrassed. Thorin was indicating he should come in, so Bilbo did and went to join Thorin at the table, smiling apologetically at the other dwarf. Thorin drew out the seat next to him and Bilbo sat gratefully, staring at the stone table in embarrassment.

Thorin looked more alert now as he gestured for the dwarf to continue. When the dwarf spoke again in Khuzdûl Thorin shook his head. 'Now Mr Baggins is present, Master Lorin, we shall speak in Westron.'

The dwarf paused for a moment but then nodded. 'As you wish,' he said in heavily accented Westron. 'As I was saying, now that the mines are rebuilt and in working order you can start bringing your people back; repopulate Erebor once more. I have written to my Lord Dain to tell him of the news and he sent word back...'

Bilbo felt incredibly awkward sitting here, superfluous and unneeded, but Thorin's large frame kept him in his seat and he didn't mind, not when Thorin looked at least a little more engaged than he had done before Bilbo interrupted. Lorin was handing Thorin another scroll, covered in Dwarvish runes. Bilbo could make neither head nor tail of it, but judging from the way Thorin's brow deepened to a scowl whatever it said wasn't good.

Thorin folded it back up and clutched it tightly in his hand, but he said nothing of its contents to Bilbo. He nodded to Lorin and stood up, his chair scraping on the flagstone floor.

'Everything is understood. I take it that is all...?'

Lorin nodded, and began clearing away his scrolls. Thorin looked at Bilbo, who stood up too. 'Then until next time,' Thorin said, inclining his head towards the other dwarf, who sketched a bow. Thorin motioned to Bilbo and the two of them left the room, Thorin's scowl still deep-set. Bilbo placed a light hand on the dwarf's arm, which immediately made Thorin look up and relax his fierce gaze.

'Thorin?'

'I'm sorry. But _this _ -' he waved the piece of now crushed parchment '- is a note from Dain, informing me that he is coming to visit.'

'What's wrong with that?' Bilbo asked, perplexed - Thorin and Dain were cousins; admittedly relations between them appeared to have been strained ever since the dragon and Dain's -what Thorin saw it as - betrayal. But surely a visit between cousins wasn't anything to be this displeased over?

'It's not just a visit,' Thorin replied, pinching his nose wearily. 'He's coming on an official state visit to - and I quote - "help me with the transition from being landless to being King". As if I need his help! He's just an interfering busybody with not enough to do-' Thorin broke off, before he said anything truly insulting.

'Of course he is,' Bilbo said soothingly, not removing his placating hand from Thorin's forearm, 'and _of course _you don't need his help. But you can't turn him away without starting another war so you'll just have to indulge him.'

Thorin still looked cross, but he gave a small smile to Bilbo. 'You're right, of course. You'll have to stay with me while he's here, Bilbo, to stop me doing anything stupid.'

If only Bilbo knew how Thorin's heart leaped at Bilbo's answering smile, or how it jumped into his throat when Bilbo looped his arm through Thorin's and began walking.

'So what does Dain plan on doing while he's here, exactly?' Bilbo asked. 'What does "helping you with the transition" entail?'

'I don't know for sure,' Thorin said, 'but it'll probably involve lots of feasting, to prove my wealth; lots of elaborate gifts, to prove Erebor's crafting skill; and lots of boring talks to prove my political capability - my diplomacy. Which is why I need you.'

Bilbo looked smug. 'Yes, you do,' he laughed, and the sound elicited a grin to break out across Thorin's face. The hobbit's cheerfulness was catching, and Thorin couldn't imagine what he'd do if -when - Bilbo announced his intention to go back to the Shire. He hadn't said anything or indeed made any allusion to it, but still Thorin feared that day and deliberately pushed all thoughts of it away.

They continued up, climbing the huge staircases to reach the living quarters. But halfway up Bilbo unhooked his arm from Thorin's, saying he needed to go to the library.

'Do you want me to come with you?' Thorin asked, but Bilbo waved away his offer, saying he only needed to get a book and he'd be back, and Thorin should go ahead. He did so, reluctantly, but Bilbo evidently wanted to be alone for a bit. The thought made him sad, but Thorin resolutely ignored his heart as he watched Bilbo's retreating figure.

* * *

At dinner that evening, Dís announced that the party for Dwalin and Ori's courtship would take place that weekend and everyone had to be there or else. Dinner was, for Bilbo, an awkward experience as Bofur and Nori were still a little skittish towards each other, laughing but never quite meeting the other's eye; Bilbo wondered if perhaps he'd made a terrible mistake. He sat watching them through the meal, not noticing Thorin's eyes on him.

'Thorin, if you insist on staring at Master Baggins, at least don't scowl so,' Dís whispered to her brother. 'You'll scare him off.'

Thorin turned instead to scowl at her, but she smiled at him unfazed.

'You might tell Balin to stop staring at _you,_' he said, a little waspishly, but Dís just grinned. 'But I think I have reason to scowl.'

'You're so melodramatic. If you _told _him-'

'That's not what I'm talking about,' Thorin snapped. He handed her the parchment with the note from Dain, and watched her eyebrows rise as she read it.

'I see,' was all she said.

'You know what he's trying to do! Bringing a cohort of his Iron Hills nobility? You know most of them will be dwarrowdams he deems a suitable match for the King of Erebor. He's trying to worm his way into our favour by marrying me to one of the daughters some petty, minor nobility!'

* * *

**A/N: *Evil laugh* What a bombshell to leave you with! Heheeheheh. Also - Nofur as another side pairing woop woop. Bilbo _is _trying to match-make, after all... :D  
**

**Thank you all so very very much for all your comments - I really really do appreciate them and I love you all for revieing, fav/following and reading! Thank you! :')**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Gah this is uploaded on my phone with the 'copy and paste' function so apologies for any weird formatting issues :/ This chapter takes a little break from the plot... it's basically just fluff. In fact is ****_is _****just fluff, with a few feels tthrown in too. ;) Enjoy... :D**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

For the rest of the week, Dís and the girls were busy with preparations for the party. Bilbo was highly amused at how excited the dwarves became as the party got closer - not that he was immune to the charms of a good party. He had attended - and thrown - many a party in his youth and even he grew a little pink with excitement at the thought of the coming celebration.

If everyone else was excited, Thorin only grew more withdrawn. He would smile at dinner, perhaps laugh; but to Bilbo it was strained and it never quite reached his eyes. Dark circles began to appear under those eyes, and Bilbo grew worried.

He cornered Thorin one morning after breakfast, grabbing hold of Thorin's sleeve to stop him walking away. Thorin looked tired.

'Thorin, are you alright? You look... You look awful,' Bilbo admitted. Indeed he did - his skin was wan and the normally bright eyes were dulled. But he smiled at Bilbo's words, and for a moment looked like himself again.

'I'm fine, Bilbo. Really.'

Bilbo shook his head.

'No, Thorin. You're not. What's wrong?'

How Thorin wanted to tell him that nothing was wrong; how could anything be wrong when he was there, hand on his arm and those eyes like emeralds looking at him so earnestly. For a moment, Thorin was sorely tempted; he opened his mouth but no sound came and he shook his head.

'I'm just... A little tired,' was what he settled for. Bilbo's gaze softened and a small smile played on his lips - lips Thorin wanted to kiss -

_No_.

'We need to get you out of this Mountain,' Bilbo was saying when Thorin managed to push away any potentially dangerous thoughts. 'It's the stress. You need some time away from here.' Thorin made once more to shake his head but Bilbo interrupted him.'Honestly Thorin, just for the morning! We could walk to the market for a bit. Please, Thorin, do this for me?'

And who was Thorin to deny his hobbit anything?

He sighed and pretended to look crosser than he felt, but felt an answering smile slide onto his face at the grin that appeared on Bilbo's.

'Let me fetch my jacket and some food -' Bilbo ignored Thorin's chuckle '- and we can go!' Thorin watched him run off and quickly headed to his own chamber to fetch his coat. He knew he was smiling something silly, and this was confirmed when he bumped into Dís, who did a double take.

'What's happened to you?' she asked disbelievingly.

'I'm going for a walk. With Bilbo.'

Dís gave a sly grin. 'Are you now.'

Thorin ignored her and continued on to his chamber, retrieved his coat and hurried back to meet Bilbo, who was now wearing his jacket and hefting a large basket. Thorin couldn't help but smile at the ridiculously large amount of food Bilbo thought they'd need on this walk - and they were going to the _market_, they could _buy_ food - but he took the basket anyway, lifting it with ease where Bilbo had had to resort to near dragging it.

They left the Mountain through the main gates and started on their way down the road which led to the market. The land around Erebor was mostly rocky and quite sparse of much vegetation, but as they drew closer to Dale and Long Lake the land grew softer, hillier, with grass and trees and shrubs. Bilbo had stared out over this land many a time while enjoying a smoke, thinking of his hole back in the Shire.

As they climbed a soft hillock Thorin saw the small, serene smile Bilbo wore as he breathed in the grass and the trees. There were crickets chirping and Bilbo was so delighted at the sound. Thorin felt guilt begin to seep and settle in his stomach, crawling under his skin.

It was his fault Bilbo was reduced to this - drinking in the sounds and smells of green grass like a child. His fault, because Bilbo stayed only because Thorin wanted him to. Thorin had hoped, for a while, that maybe Bilbo would want to stay of his own accord, but seeing him like this Thorin realised that perhaps Bilbo and the Shire was like him and the Mountain - like an itch that won't go away, the desire to be reunited with his homeland was ever present and always burning deep in his heart. Now he had his home back, but he'd taken Bilbo from his. Thorin faltered, falling behind.

Bilbo noticed the dwarf's absence and looked back, flashing him a smile that caused Thorin's heart to stutter painfully. _Mahal_, he needed to stop this. Thorin shook his head.

'Why don't we just stay here?' he said. 'Have a picnic? That's what hobbits do, isn't it?'

Bilbo had an incredulous look on his face. 'Are you telling me that you've never been on a picnic?' he asked. At Thorin's shake of his head, Bilbo couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped him. 'You haven't lived! We need to rectify that.'

Bilbo rejoined him and together they found a spot, under a tree and close to a little brook which gurgled merrily. Bilbo sat with his back against the tree trunk, head lolling back against the bark. Thorin sat uncertainly down next to him, keeping his back straight and not touching the tree.

Bilbo opened one eye and raised his eyebrows. 'Honestly, Thorin. You're not going to turn into an elf just by touching a tree.'

He grinned impishly and Thorin couldn't stop the smile that crept onto his face. He leant back against the trunk and was surprised by how comfortable it was - admittedly it scratched a little and he'd probably end up with bark in his hair for weeks to come, but it was peaceful.

And when Bilbo leant his head back against the bark, his curls tickling Thorin's ear... Well, no one saw the smile that he allowed to play over his features.

Bilbo revelled in the feel of the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, the soft grass tickling his legs. Soon though his stomach began to grumble slightly, so he sat up and crawled over to the picnic basket and began rooting through it.

'Already?' Thorin asked, amusement in his voice.

'Second breakfast is long overdue,' Bilbo said seriously, ignoring Thorin's chuckle. 'Maybe if you ate more you wouldn't be so grumpy,' he said, hiding a grin.

'I'm not grumpy,' Thorin muttered and Bilbo turned and laughed at the disgruntled expression on Thorin's face. Seeing Bilbo laughing, Thorin's face softened and he relaxed into a smile when he realised Bilbo wasn't serious.

Bilbo continued rootling through the basket and began setting things up, pulling out a loaf of bread and a block of cheese, cold ham and slices of chicken and a few crunchy apples.

'We should have a picnic blanket,' Bilbo said, 'but I forgot to pick something up-' He was cut off by Thorin pulling off his cloak and laying it on the ground.

'Will this do?'

But Bilbo looked aghast.

'We can't use your cloak! It'll get food crumbs all in the lining and-' Thorin simply stared at Bilbo, amusement clear in his blue eyes until Bilbo stopped talking, sighing instead. 'Alright, if you insist...'

He set the food down on Thorin's coat and handed him some cutlery; Thorin began slicing the ham and bread while Bilbo pulled out a jug and two cups.

'Normally we'd have lemonade, or elderflower cordial, or fresh orange juice, but the kitchens were a bit low on that,' he wrinkled his nose, 'so we'll just have to make do with ale.'

Thorin gave a snort as he took one of the filled cups from Bilbo, who scooted back to sit next to him on the cloak. They began to eat, a companionable silence falling as they enjoyed the food.

'Tell me about the Shire,' Thorin said after a while.

Bilbo stopped. 'I've told you about it before. And you've seen it.'

'You've seen Erebor, but do you now know everything there is to know about life here?'

'But the Shire is hardly as complicated as here!' Bilbo laughed. 'Everyone just enjoys a quiet laugh with plenty of food and merriment and peace and quiet. And books,' he added. 'Lots of books. Although that might just be me.'

'Do you miss it?' Thorin braced himself for the answer, for the resounding yes that would mean his hobbit intended to leave.

'What, do I miss Lobelia sticking her nose in everywhere? Do I miss the silly disputes over whose hedge is sticking over whose fence? Do I miss the honestly quite boring routine, the same day after day?' He looked Thorin in the eye, his own a darker green than the grass around them but no less bright. He gave a small sigh.

'Sometimes I do. Sometimes I just want my cosy smial and my armchair and my bookcase. I would give anything to be able to just get up and fry myself a nice fish and read while I do so - I still haven't got used to this being waited upon thing, you know - and I miss my garden and all the flowers in it. It should be beautiful this time of year. But then I really think about it and I remember all the things I find so dull and irritating and no, I don't really miss it at all.'

He smiled at Thorin. 'After all, home is where the heart is. And my heart is here with you all.'

Thorin tried not to let the hobbit see how deeply his words affected him. He looked down at his plate, food forgotten for the minute in his relief. But he couldn't resist asking further, knowing the answer might hurt. 'But surely you have _some_ family you miss?'

'Well, there is Drogo... He's my favourite cousin. A good lad he is, you know. When I saw him last - only a few weeks before you lot arrived on my doorstep! - he was quite taken with another cousin of mine - Primula. She's a Brandybuck, more adventurous than his Baggins stock but she's a sweet lass. Neither of them are quite of age yet, although I do believe Drogo turns thirty-three next month - and even then they'll have to follow the five years of courting rule before they can marry -'

Thorin made a strangled noise beside him and Bilbo looked around, concerned he was choking.

_ 'Five years?'_ Thorin gasped. 'You have to court for five years before you can marry?'

'Of course,' Bilbo said, sounding affronted. 'Don't you? It proves the couple's dedication to one another. That they're prepared to see this through.'

Thorin merely nodded, gulping down some of his ale. 'Courting isn't usually quite so long... It's just until a dwarf has a steady income and a job so he can provide for his family. Once that's achieved a couple can marry whenever they like - provided they are of age. Some like to wait but most don't see the point in delaying.'

Bilbo digested that thoughtfully, chewing on his apple. 'I suppose that makes sense. And prevents the scandal when a couple get married early!'

'Has that happened much?'

'Oh yes. It's much more common that old bags like Lobelia would care to mention. My own grandparents did - on my mother's side of course. You wouldn't catch a Baggins breaking propriety - until me, of course, but I'm half Took. But my grandfather Gerontius ran away with my grandmother Adamanta to the North Farthing where no one really knew them and... They got married. My grandfather got into awful trouble seeing as he was the next Thain, but they couldn't do anything now they were officially hobbit and wife. I've always thought it perfectly romantic - quite the stuff of story books.'

Bilbo caught sight of Thorin's teasing smile and playfully hit him on the arm.

'Yes, yes, I know it's not going to happen to me. My days of dreaming are long gone, I assure you, and my head's set perfectly straight, thank you very much.'

Bilbo stood up then, brushing the crumbs from his clothes onto the grass, being careful not to get any more on Thorin's coat which he then promptly brushed off as well.

'I'm going to paddle,' he said, as he walked over to the little brook. 'Will you join me?'

'I thought hobbits didn't like water?'

'I'd hardly call this stream anything to be afraid of,' Bilbo said drily as he stepped in. He inhaled sharply as the initial cold of the water hit him but gradually he relaxed. It felt nice, once he got used to it.

Thorin stood by the stream, not going in but simply watching Bilbo. The hobbit was grinning as the water swirled around his feet, chattering and babbling as it tumbled over the small stones and pebbles.

x'Come in, Thorin! It's lovely, I promise.'

'It had better be,' Thorin grumbled, but his heart wasn't in it. 'It's a right pain to take these boots off, you know.' Bilbo just rolled his eyes, and Thorin removed his boots and socks.

He dipped a tentative toe in and immediately pulled it back out again. 'It's so cold!'

'Oh come on,' Bilbo said, laughing, 'the Mountain is colder than this sometimes.'

Reluctantly Thorin put his foot back in the water and then the other, finding his balance among the little pebbles that rolled around under his feet as he walked. Bilbo approached and Thorin wobbled on the unsure ground, catching at Bilbo's jacket to stop himself falling. Bilbo held his arms to keep him steady - but of course, as soon as Thorin let go Bilbo was toppling over and landed sitting in the water.

Thorin froze, and Bilbo sat shocked for a moment, until he began laughing. He pulled himself up, his trousers and the bottom half of his jacket and shirt sodden, and just stood there laughing; as much at the look on Thorin's face as anything else.

'Bilbo, I'm so sorry!' Bilbo waved away his apology, still grinning broadly, but Thorin was up out of the water and fetching his cloak - brushing it free from crumbs. 'You can't walk around like that. Let's get back home so you can change and won't catch a cold!'

Bilbo made a face at Thorin's insistence but he dutifully left the stream and wrapped himself in Thorin's coat. Once it was on he was grateful for its furred warmth; in the cool air his teeth were beginning to chatter but the great fur cloak kept most of the cold out.

Thorin packed up the food while Bilbo stood wrapped in his cloak, bemoaning the fact they never got to eat the biscuits until Thorin promised they could eat the biscuits on the way back. Thorin carrying the basket and Bilbo wrapped in a dwarven cloak too large for him, the two set off back for the Mountain; Thorin's heart lighter and Bilbo's cheeks a little too warm.

* * *

'What do you make of this, boys?'

Fíli and Kíli looked up at where their mother stood on the balcony, looking out over the land beyond the main gates. They joined her and peered out, trying to see what had so captured her attention. The gates were opening and two figures were entering.

Dís' gaze was levelled at the two figures, so Fíli and Kíli looked closer.

'Bilbo's wearing Uncle's coat,' Fíli said in disbelief.

'What?' Kíli sounded shocked. '_Bilbo_? Wearing _Uncle's _coat?' He leaned dangerously far over the balcony trying to see better until Fíli pulled him back slightly.

'Mama...' Fíli said. 'Does this mean...?'

Dís just gave a small, sly grin, and continued to stare thoughtfully at the shapes of her brother and a hobbit as they entered the Mountain.

* * *

Thorin walked Bilbo to his room, insisting he keep the coat on until he was dried and comfortable. He was cornered on the way back to his own room by Dís, who fell into step with him.

'Well, brother?'

'Well what?' Thorin replied churlishly, taking a childish delight in being as irritating as possible.

'You seem to be missing a coat.'

'Oh, that. Well, Bilbo fell in the stream so I gave him my coat to keep him warm-'

'Thorin!' Dís grabbed his arms, stopping him in his tracks. 'I'm being serious. You know what it means; you also know that the hobbit _doesn't_ know. And you know that Dain is coming and it will inevitably stir up trouble. So tell me, Thorin, my dear brother: when are you going to tell Bilbo how you feel?'

Thorin had started scowling again at the mention of Dain. His sister really knew the perfect way to sour the moment.

'Well of course I'm going to ignore Dain's efforts, well-intentioned as they may be. Your sons are my heirs and Dain has no right poking his nose in our business.'

'That still begs the question: when will you tell the hobbit?'

'Tell him what?'

'Oh for the love of Mahal, Thorin! Stop this. You know how you feel for him and by giving him your coat you've all but proclaimed it for everyone to see! The others will just be waiting for a happy announcement while poor Bilbo still has no idea. You can't just do that to him!'

Pink spots had appeared on Dís' cheeks and she was breathing heavily, anger clear in her bright eyes. Thorin felt an answering anger rise up in him.

'Well what was I supposed to do, Dís? Let him catch a cold because I was afraid of what everyone else was going to think? My feelings don't come into this. Bilbo is and will be my friend until he decides otherwise and I will _not_ ruin what I have with him!'

Thorin pulled his arm out of Dís' grip and continued onto his chamber, storming down the corridor. He ignored Dís calling his name after him, not looking back or indicating he heard her at all.

When he reached the safety of his chamber he locked the door and sank against it, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh. He felt so happy with Bilbo, even when he had been talking about his home in the Shire. His kind, wonderful hobbit who understood him so completely - in all aspects that mattered apart from one.

Could Bilbo not see how he never failed to bring a smile to Thorin's face? How Thorin's pulse always quickened when he was near and it was a constant battle not to just give in and kiss those soft lips; run his hands through his head of curls? Oh, how Thorin wanted to be able to braid Bilbo's curls; he wanted to plait Bilbo's hair with the braid of Durin's line, a braid proclaiming him his...

But Dís was right, and Bilbo either couldn't see it or didn't want to. And Thorin wouldn't - _couldn't_ - ruin their friendship with an ill-timed confession.

No; Thorin would gladly spend a lifetime with inner battles and an ache in his heart and Bilbo beside him than one of heartbreak with his hobbit on the other side of Middle-earth.

* * *

**A/N:Eeep! Thorin's still pining, Bilbo continues to be oblivious... and Dís is getting angry! :P I hope you enjoyed the fluff - next chapter we should be back to actual plot development. (Probably. Maybe. I hope.) Thank you so very very much for all your lovely reviews - they honestly keep me writing. Thanks for reading, and see you next chapter... :D**

**NB: I obviously made up all that stuff about courting in the Shire, and Gerontius and Adamanta's marriage. But maybe it'll be important - maybe it won't. Who knows? ;)**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: So here is chapter 7! I'm so sorry that the slow burn is being so... well, _slow_, but it is developing! This chapter is the start of it all, I promise ;) After this things will start to happen! :D (I hope. Quite often I get side-tracked by fluff - which I just cannot resist - or it just doesn't feel _right_. I'm starting to get a bit angsty though about Bilbo's obliviousness so... well.) I just hope the ending will be worth it! :D**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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**T**horin refused to talk to anyone about why Bilbo was wearing his coat and Dís and her sons quickly learned not to mention it, unless they wanted to see Thorin's brows knit together and a mood blacker than the dark of Mirkwood descend upon him. (Luckily for Thorin, they were the only ones to have seen the hobbit in Thorin's cloak and the rest of the company remained oblivious. As, unfortunately, did Bilbo... Thorin's heart continued to ache whenever Bilbo smiled, laughed, or even was just _there_.

But Thorin did not allow himself to act on whatever desires he harboured, keeping them close to his heart and locked behind the grim line of his lips.

The days slid past quickly, drawing ever closer to the celebration for Ori and Dwalin. Dís' plan of involving Dori in the planning of the event seemed to have paid off and he no longer sent Dwalin death glares every time the two were in the same room; instead he tried to be civil and Dwalin gratefully accepted Dori's unspoken offer of a truce, trying his utmost to fulfil Dori's expectations in a partner for Ori.

There had, admittedly, not been much headway on the Bofur and Nori front. The two were as inseparable as ever but still neither seemed to have addressed the matter that had made itself clear - well, clear to Bilbo - during the letter game. Bilbo vowed to do something about it, and soon.

The day of the celebration had started off much as any other, but there were more comings and goings as Dís, Golma and Bím finished decorating the main hall and Bombur ensconced himself in the kitchens with a team of cooks as he prepared the food for the feast in the evening. Bilbo wasn't needed, as such, but he hated sitting idle when he could be helping. He headed to the large hall where the party was to take place and which was decked out with colourful tapestries and drapes and bunting which spelt out "Dwalin & Ori". Dís was in her element, ordering a couple of maids who were fixing a velvet drape to the wall.

Dís smiled at him when he entered, grinning wider than usual.

'Morning, Bilbo!' she said cheerily, and Bilbo grinned back.

'Good morning, Dís. It looks excellent in here,' he said, staring around him. Dís preened a little, but then moved and put an arm to his shoulder, drawing him away to one side for a moment.

'Did you have a nice time with Thorin, the other day?' she asked.

'Yes, actually. We had a picnic! I think Thorin wanted to make me feel more at home here,' Bilbo said, examining the table cloth spread and ready to be covered with Bombur's cooking.

'Did he...' Dís said thoughtfully.

'Where is he?' Bilbo asked suddenly. 'I haven't seen him much since we went out.'

'I should think he'll still be in his room,' Dís said, and then her face brightened. 'You couldn't possibly go and fetch him for me, could you? I need to speak to him but I'm so busy here...'

Bilbo snorted a little at the thought of anyone 'fetching' Thorin Oakenshield, but complied, heading back out of the hall and walking to Thorin's chamber. He knocked on the heavy oak door and waited until a voice said, 'Who's there?' Bilbo chuckled at the grumpiness.

'It's me, Bilbo,' he said, and there was silence for a few moments before the door was yanked open and Thorin stood in front of him.

'Bilbo.' Thorin's eyes were fixed on him and Bilbo felt himself begin to squirm under his gaze but made himself stop.

'Dís sent me,' he explained, 'she wants to speak to you about something but she's busy...'

Thorin was silent for a minute but then drew back inside, inviting Bilbo in. 'I just have to finish getting ready.'

'Oh!' Bilbo felt himself blushing. 'I'll wait outside-'

'No need,' Thorin said, a smile ghosting over his lips. 'It's just my hair.'

'Oh.' This time Bilbo sighed in relief, his cheeks returning to their normal colour.

There was silence for a while as Thorin sat back in front of his mirror and returned to re-braiding his hair. Bilbo watched, fascinated at the way Thorin' s deft fingers wove the tiny plaits into his thick dark hair. He didn't realise he was staring until he noticed Thorin looking at him in the mirror, one eyebrow raised and amusement in his blue eyes.

'Interested, hobbit?' he asked, lightly teasing.

Bilbo felt himself flushing again and cursed the blood that rushed so easily to his face. Honestly, he was like a tweenage lass.

'I'm sorry, but it's so... It's beautiful,' Bilbo admitted. 'You make it look so easy.'

Thorin turned, looking him in the eye properly, and smiled. 'Come,' he said, motioning Bilbo over, and Bilbo joined him at the mirror. 'I shall teach you.'

Bilbo did a double take and tried to protest, but Thorin took hold of his hands and pressed a lock of his own hair to Bilbo's fingers.

'You know how to do a simple plait, don't you?' Thorin asked. Bilbo nodded, swallowing with difficulty as he ran his fingers through the lock of Thorin's hair. It was so soft; so much softer than he'd imagined. He began to plait the hair, gently weaving it into a long braid and marvelling at how nice - how _right _- it felt.

Thorin was leaning his head back, his eyes closed. The feel of Bilbo's soft hands so gently pulling at his hair as he plaited it was almost more than he could bear; it was so right, so perfect, and it was all he could do to keep from pulling Bilbo into his arms right there and then.

A small cough sounded and Thorin started, opening his eyes and seeing Bilbo staring down at him. Confusion was written on his face and Thorin felt himself colour, heat flooding his face. He passed Bilbo a bead, opening it for him and handing it to him. Bilbo snapped it shut around the end of the plait, stepping back and admiring his work.

'There,' he said. 'How's that?'

If Thorin was completely honest, it was a little wonky and a bit looser than the one on the other side of his head, but to Thorin it was perfection. It could have been hideous and awful but to Thorin it would still have been the most perfect thing.

'It's wonderful,' Thorin said, smiling at Bilbo's pleased expression. His face had lit up like the sun, and Thorin determined he would do as much as he could to ensure that smile never left his hobbit's face. 'Now, you wanted me for something?' he asked, basking in the warmth of Bilbo's smile.

Bilbo's face instantly looked stricken for a moment, before it turned to confusion. 'Um... Oh, yes! Dís wanted you!' he smiled again. Bilbo had quite forgotten what it was he'd originally come for; braiding Thorin's hair had driven out all other thoughts and his hands still remembered the silken strands slipping through his fingers, the tips tingling where they had touched it... He ignored it though, just as he did the lump in his throat, even if he did commit the event to memory - it was the first time Thorin had let him do something Bilbo knew was reserved for family.

'Does she now?' Thorin looked inexplicably glum for a moment, but before Bilbo could ask the matter Thorin had put a large hand on his shoulder and was guiding him out of the door, heading back to where Dís was.

They arrived at the hall and found most of the Company had gathered there, watching the decorations go up and offering assistance when required. Bofur, it seemed, was on dwarfling duty as he was having quite the job of trying to keep them from getting in the way. Bilbo and Thorin entered, making their way across the hall to where Dís was sorting the table settings. Bilbo was intercepted by Bofur and roped into helping him keep the children in check.

Dís looked up as Thorin approached and with her usual hawk-like ability her eyes found the braid in Thorin's hair, wonky and loose, and she grinned; her eyes sparkled with a glee that made Thorin instantly wary.

'You wanted to speak to me?' he said carefully.

'Well, I was hoping that by now you'd be wanting to say something... To all of us? An _announcement_, maybe?' Her blue eyes found the braid in Thorin's hair again and she looked at him pointedly; when he ducked his head she gave a small groan.

'Thorin,' she said, her voice strained, 'please tell me you've explained to Bilbo the significance of braiding another dwarf's hair.'

Thorin was immediately on the defensive. 'He knows that it's only done by family! He just doesn't know about... the proproposal stuff...'

Thorin trailed off and ran a hand through his hair, causing some strands to fall out of Bilbo's less-than-perfect plait.

'At least let me re-do it, then,' Dís said, reaching for the braid. 'It's all falling out-'

'No!' Thorin took a step backward. 'It'll hurt Bilbo's feelings if he sees.'

Dís gave a sigh of frustration. 'Then we'll make sure he _doesn't _see-' She stopped when Thorin gave her a warning look, his eyes hard and glittering.

'No, Dís.'

She threw her hands in the air. 'Fine, Thorin. But you two may as well be _married_ now - he's braided your hair, you've given him your clothes - honestly, Thorin! Why can't you just tell him-'

'I've told you before,' he said darkly. 'I will not risk my friendship with Bilbo.'

'But what if I told you the risk was really not so very great at all?'

For a moment, hope gleamed in Thorin's eyes and his stomach seemed to drop out, swooping underneath him, before he regained control and pushed the thoughts away.

'Then I would tell you that you were wrong. It is not your place to presume to know his feelings.' With that Thorin turned and left the room, heading back for his chamber where he leant against the door and toyed with the braid Bilbo had done, holding it as carefully as if it were his own dear hobbit and wishing desperately that it were.

* * *

A troupe of musicians arrived after lunch, not long before the party was due to begin, and they began setting up in the hall while Dís and the others got changed. They were dwarves, and while none could rival Thorin at the harp they were cheerful and skilled enough, from what Bilbo heard as they set up, that they would do very nicely.

Bilbo had to hurry to change before the party began and when he got there the table was groaning under the weight of all the dishes Bombur had cooked, the band was playing a jig and the dwarflings were running around shrieking and laughing. Fíli, Kíli and Gimli were sitting at the end of the dining table, each clasping a mug and Gimli was talking animatedly - judging from the way he was waving his hands in the air it was about weaponry of some sort.

He saw Thorin sitting at the head of the table, watching his family and friends around him. Dís and Balin were nearby, but the couple for which this party was being thrown in the first place were surrounded by various members of the company - Bilbo could see Nori teasing his brother and Glóin laughing at Dwalin's embarrassment as he shuffled his boots. Bilbo made his way over to them and gave them both a hug - he didn't reach Dwalin's shoulder but the burly dwarf allowed himself to be pulled into Bilbo's embrace.

'I'm so happy for you both,' Bilbo congratulated them, grinning as they held hands.

'Aye, and I s'pose we'd best thank ye for it,' Dwalin said, 'although I'll ask ye not to go knocking me One out again!'

Bilbo flushed and Ori elbowed Dwalin, chastising him; but Dwalin was smiling at Bilbo and wasn't too serious. Bilbo still felt bad that it had taken Ori getting injured to bring the two together but seeing how happy they were together made him feel infinitely better about the whole thing.

After he'd spoken to Dwalin and Ori, Bilbo headed over to join Thorin, who was looking rather glum. On the way Bilbo stopped to pick up two mugs of ale and carried them to Thorin, who gave him a small smile as he accepted the mug.

'Enjoying the party?' Bilbo teased, grinning.

Thorin hummed in agreement, smiling slightly. They sat watching the others and Bilbo smiled at the dwarflings who began dancing. Bombur had got Bím to take his hand and the two were dancing with the children. Golma and Glóin were failing miserably at trying to get Gimli to dance - he was blushing as bright as his hair and staring into his cup while Fíli and Kíli teased him.

When the musicians started up a particularly lively piece of music, Bofur got up and began dancing energetically, laughing as his nephews and nieces joined him. Bilbo chuckled at the sight, and smiled when he saw Nori. The dwarf had sat at the table, next to Dori, with a mug of ale. His eyes followed Bofur as the other dwarf swept around the dance floor, a child clutching each arm, a smile playing on his lips. He fiddled with his mug when he wasn't taking a draught of ale but his eyes never left Bofur.

Bilbo got up and went to join Nori, slipping into the seat next to him. Nori glanced at him, offered a smile, and returned to watching Bofur. Bilbo couldn't stop a small grin spreading across his face as an idea wormed its way into his brain.

He continued to sit next to Nori, occasionally drinking some of his ale, and watched the others dancing. Bofur paused for a moment, just long enough to catch sight of them and shot a smile in their direction; Bilbo felt Nori stiffen beside him.

'I do _love_ Bofur,' Bilbo said, sighing and taking a sip of ale.

Nori sat up straighter. 'You do?' He glanced at Bilbo, a strange look in his eyes, for a second before looking back to Bofur. Bilbo grinned into his mug.

'Yep. He's one of my best friends, Nori.' Bilbo felt Nori relax infinitesimally at his words. 'He deserves the best.'

'Aye. He does,' Nori sighed.

'He needs someone who can make him smile. Someone who can make him laugh.' Nori turned to look at him then and Bilbo looked him in the eye, raising his eyebrow a fraction. 'Don't you think he's waited long enough?' he grinned.

And at that Nori was up on his feet and striding across the floor to where Bofur was surrounded by little dwarves, taking him by the arms. He said something that caused a huge grin to break out across Bofur's face, and then the smiling dwarf took Nori in his arms and was hugging him, pressing kisses to his face and grinning as if all his Yules had come at once.

Everyone stopped for a moment, stunned and taken aback by this new development; but at little Bani's high-pitched giggle and exclamation that 'Uncle's got a boyfriend', the room was suddenly filled with clapping and cheers. Dwalin and Ori were probably cheering the loudest - except for maybe Bifur, whose roars of congratulations were almost more suited to a battle-field than a party. Dori was sitting in shock, but when Nori turned to him he smiled and pressed his forehead to Nori's, a tear escaping from his eye. Bilbo ordered a cup of chamomile to be brought up and he took it to the older dwarf to calm him, and afterwards Dori grew a lot more cheerful.

Bilbo could only marvel at how his plan had worked - and so suddenly! Bilbo allowed himself to feel proud as he fetched another mug of ale, only to be dragged into Fíli and Kíli's argument with Gimli about facial hair - Kíli claiming that since hobbits had none he must _surely _be most attractive to halflings; Gimli and Fíli pointing out that they were still hairy, just on their feet.

Thorin watched his hobbit caught in the discussion, blushing a bright crimson at the direction it was taking.

'Thorin. You know what I'm going to say, don't you?' Dís said from beside him. 'Won't you just ask him to dance? It can't hurt.'

'If you can get Balin to dance with you, sister, then perhaps I will,' Thorin replied wearily, not intending to do anything of the sort. Besides, from here he could best appreciate his hobbit's figure…

'I don't believe you, but I think I'll ask Balin to dance anyway,' Dís grinned, and so saying she approached Balin and asked him something. Immediately Balin stood a little straighter and more confidently, and soon enough he was leading Dís onto the dance floor for a dance.

Bilbo had managed to escape the younger dwarves' heated debate and made it back to Thorin, his cheeks still a pretty pink that Thorin couldn't resist and he quickly looked away, draining his mug as Bilbo sat down beside him instead.

'Is that Dís and Balin?' Bilbo asked. Thorin murmured a confirmation, and Bilbo let out a small noise. 'I shouldn't really be surprised,' he laughed, 'the number of secret romances going on at the moment-' _oh, if only he knew! _Thorin thought drily'- but I think they're good for each other.'

'Well, they haven't said anything yet,' Thorin warned, 'but Dís has never been one for hiding behind pretences.' _Unlike me_, he thought bitterly. But he knew why he had to keep Bilbo at a distance - at least until Bilbo was ready. The thought reminded him of Dain's impending visit and his mood once more grew sour. He wasn't going to marry some stuck-up, poncy dwarrowdam of dubious heritage just to keep Dain happy...

'Oh!' Bilbo exclaimed next to him, breaking Thorin out of his reverie. The dwarf consciously made an effort to smoothe his brow out and stop glowering. 'I know this song!' Bilbo nodded his head in time to the opening beats.

'We know this tune in the Shire,' Bilbo explained. 'We dance to it at our Lithe festival... I'll show you!' He stood up and looked at Thorin, excitement in his green eyes. 'Let me show you our Summer dance, just as you showed me the braids this morning,' Bilbo said softly.

Thorin' s throat went dry and he could say nothing; he made a wordless noise of assent as he unconsciously stood up. All he was aware of at that moment in time was the happiness in Bilbo's face as he walked to the dance floor. Thorin could only follow, like a sheep following its flock.

And then suddenly they were on the dance floor and Thorin was feeling like a fool and he could feel the eyes of the others on him but he could no more stop than he could grow pointy ears. And then _- Mahal, _Bilbo was taking his hand and closing it in his small warm ones, and guiding him in a dance full of little spins and claps and all Thorin wanted to do was hold Bilbo's hand and never let him go; he wanted to hold him in that spin forever and forget everything else. But all too soon the music had stopped and Bilbo was laughing, standing in front of him all flushed and breathing heavily and Thorin was once more tongue-tied.

'Did you like that?' Bilbo asked, his voice slightly husky still from the exertion. 'Hobbit dances are complicated, aren't they?' He was still smiling, but there was a look in his eye – just for a moment – before he shook the curls out of his eyes and they were once more back to normal.

Thorin had to swallow a few times before his voice would work, but he managed to get out a yes eventually. The two walked back to the dining table and Bilbo began to pile a plate full of food while Thorin sat, trying to calm his pulse - which wasn't racing _only_ because of the dancing - and quash the dangerous thoughts threatening to spill over into his actions. He felt Dís' eyes on him, sparkling mischievously and knowingly, but she was soon distracted by Dwalin and Ori sharing their first proper kiss in public, accompanied by much good-natured ribbing from Nori and Bofur.

The thought of his company finding their loves made Thorin's gut twist in jealousy and sadness; when Bilbo began humming beside him Thorin was once again reminded of how precious his hobbit was, and how much he _needed_ him there at his side – and how he could not and would not do anything to jeopardise that.

* * *

**A/N: Mahal's sake, Thorin, just... aagh. He's so stubborn and I think he _likes_** **inflicting this angst upon himself! But hey. I** **hope you enjoyed! ^.^**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope you'll have fun reading! Thank you all so very much for your lovely reviews and for favouriting/following - it really means so much to me :')  
**

**Anyway. On with the chapter... XD**

* * *

**B**ilbo made it to his own room that night, not having consumed enough alcohol to render him unable to manage. If Thorin was honest, he was a little disappointed that he didn't have a reason to hold his hobbit close just for a little while as he escorted him to his chamber. But when Thorin lay down on his bed that night, music still ringing in his ears, he could still feel Bilbo's hands in his and the warmth of his smile.

He was rudely awoken the next morning by a loud knocking at his door. He opened his eyes groggily and lay for a moment while he woke up properly. Surely it was too early to be up? Especially after the party...

'Your Highness?' a voice said from outside. 'An important message has arrived for you.'

'Just a moment,' Thorin called back and heaved himself out of bed, pulling on a rich, fur-lined robe and answering the door. A page stood there, looking nervous but determined and clutching a small piece of parchment in one hand.

'A raven arrived just a moment ago,' he said and held the note out for Thorin to take. Thorin accepted the little square of parchment and glanced at it. Inwardly groaning, he thanked the page, who scampered off.

Looking back down at the note as he closed the door, Thorin let out an actual groan as he read.

_Dearest cousin,_

_Our journey has been unexpectedly and mercifully uneventful and we are ahead of time. I estimate we shall be arriving at midday on the morrow._

_I look forward to seeing you again after all these years._

_Dain Ironfoot,_

_Lord of the Iron Hills_

Thorin grimaced. He supposed he'd have to get their rooms ready.

* * *

Bilbo got up later than usual, relishing the lie-in and languishing in bed for a while longer. But he could hear noise from outside and many shouted orders, so he dressed quickly and hurried out to find out what was going on.

It was pandemonium, as maids rushed around carrying bed sheets and furs and dusters and all manner of things. Bilbo stopped one of the maids rushing past and asked what was happening.

'My lord Dain has sent word that he'll be arriving tomorrow afternoon,' she replied, 'so His Highness has ordered the rooms to be made up in the guest quarters.'

Judging from the chaos that was currently surrounding them Bilbo assumed there was no actual order - everyone was trying to do everything, it seemed, so he immediately took control of the situation. Getting the maid to call out loud enough to get everyone to stop, he faced the many dwarves in front of him and spoke.

'Right, I'm sure the rooms will need another clean before they get made up so you lot' - he pointed to a group of about ten dwarves - 'go and give them a final going over while _you_' - another group - 'go and fetch the bed linens and sheets. When that's done you can all make up the beds together to make it quicker. Finally you five can go and get the furs and drapes and other things to add once the beds are done.'

His voice was firm and thankfully more authoritative than he felt, never having given orders to such a large group of people before - and dwarves at that. They all bobbed little curtsies before running off in their respective directions, some sort of order and efficiency now achieved.

He let out a small sigh of relief when they'd all gone and made to go back into his chamber but a laugh made him stop and look up. Dís was smiling fondly at him and Bilbo smiled back.

'That was well done,' she said. 'Although you manage just fine with my brother, so I know you can hold your own.'

'Yes, well. Thorin's not so very difficult, once you understand him,' Bilbo said modestly.

'Is he not? I've known him for 181 years and I can't say that I understand him, so you're ahead of me there.' She was laughing, and Bilbo couldn't stop the grin that slid onto his face at the infectious sound. Really, it was a wonder how Dís and Thorin could be so similar in looks and yet different in character.

'Do you know, it's a shame you're not the Consort,' Dís began but was interrupted by Bilbo choking in shock. She patted him on the back until he could breathe again, looking at her with eyes wide. 'We dwarves are by nature chaotic, and we could do with your organisation...'

She trailed off and narrowed her eyes at Bilbo, who let out a squeak and promptly disappeared into his room, leaving one satisfied dwarrowdam chuckling outside and himself with a knot in his stomach.

* * *

The rest of the day was spent busy overseeing last minute preparations and making the grand halls presentable for the Lord of the Iron Hills. Bilbo was left with no time to think about Dís' words that morning and by the time he rolled into bed he was too tired to do anything other than fall asleep.

He woke early the next morning, jolting from his sleep with a start and one thought on his mind:

What clothes was he going to wear?

Should he wear those in the dwarven style, all furs and rich fabrics and buckles encrusted with a few gems (he'd deliberately limited the number of jewels that adorned his clothes; he wanted no repeat of the _...incident. _) But then there was the fact that he wasn't actually a dwarf, despite the company's claims that he was as good as one if not better; would Dain take offence at a hobbit dressing in dwarven attire? But _then _came the fear that his hobbit clothing wasn't good enough - never mind the fact it was all rich velvets in deep colours with real gold buttons, they weren't the sort of clothing one wore when meeting royalty.

Panicking at this indecision and a sick feeling in his stomach, Bilbo hurried to his wardrobe and inspected the clothes within closely, picking out every fault and going over every decision for and against in his head.

Eventually he gave up and stopped, plucking his favourite items from the wardrobe - one set of hobbit style, another dwarven - and slipped out of his room and made his way to Bofur's. The dwarf looked confused as he peered blearily round the door but when he focused on Bilbo he gave a great grin and greeted him loudly.

'Come in, Bilbo,' Bofur ushered him into the room, grabbing him a chair and sitting opposite him. When he saw the piles of clothes bundled in Bilbo's arms he frowned slightly, and Bilbo explained.

'Bofur, I - Dain's arriving today and I have no idea what's appropriate for me to wear!'

'What do you mean?' Bofur asked, confused. 'Why wouldn't it be appropriate?'

'Well, a hobbit in dwarf clothes... Too under-dressed...' Bilbo explained, gesturing to each pile of clothes. Bofur frowned.

'Well, I'm sure I don't know,' he said lightly. 'Just where whatever takes your fancy... Your hobbit stuff's mighty nice.'

Bilbo lifted the plum velvet jacket and studied it with a critical eye. 'But is it appropriate for meeting Dain?'

'Why wouldn't it be?' Bofur sounded confused. Bilbo made a little distressed noise and gathered the clothes back into his arms, just as a knock on the door sounded and Nori appeared in the doorway.

'Nori!' Bilbo said before the dwarf could say anything, 'which clothes?'

Nori indulged him and dutifully looked at both sets of clothes, before he pursed his lips and pointed to the dwarven style. 'Wear these ones,' he said and Bilbo whined a little in the back of his throat. Why couldn't this just be _easy?_

He thanked them both before hurrying out of the room; he could hear their soft laughter. He paused on his way back to his rooms; he hadn't breakfasted yet so perhaps he could go and find some food while he waited for the answer to present itself. So saying he made his way to the kitchen and the cooks made him up a plate of sausages and eggs, which he tucked into gratefully. As he munched he continued to think about this little problem, but as soon as he nearly made up his mind an argument against it presented itself to him and he went back to deliberating.

He just wanted everything to be perfect... He wanted to do Thorin proud. Show Dain that Thorin was a worthy King and his companions were too. Bilbo couldn't bear the thought that _he _might be a disappointment to Dain and thus to Thorin too - that idea made him feel physically ill, so he pushed his plate away and after thanking the staff he hurried back to the dwarves' quarters.

The others were waking now too, low chatters being heard from behind the doors as families all got up and dressed. Still stuck, Bilbo was on his way to his own chamber when he gave in.

Yavanna, he'd just go and ask Thorin. _He _was the King so who would know better than him what Bilbo should wear when entertaining royalty?

So saying he turned and went to Thorin's chamber, knocking on the door and waiting until it was answered by Thorin, his hair still mussed and customary scowl gracing his features, which softened when he saw Bilbo.

'Bilbo,' he said, drawing the door wide so Bilbo could enter. 'What are you doing here?'

Bilbo clutched at the piles of clothes in his arms, then released them before he could crease them. It seemed a bit trivial now and his throat was dry, but he was here now.

'I need your help. I... I don't know which clothes to wear.' He saw a smile tugging at Thorin's lips and hastened to continue. 'No, I don't mean it like that! It's just... Do I wear the dwarven or the hobbit style? Would Dain take offence at my dressing in dwarf clothes?'

Bilbo looked down at the clothes wretchedly, and there was a silence in the room. He looked up at Thorin uncertainly, whose brow was furrowed as he thought. His voice was low when he spoke.

'Wear your hobbit clothes. They are more than good enough and... They're you. You're a hobbit; why pretend otherwise?' His voice appeared to crack on the last words and he looked away for a moment.

'You're right,' Bilbo said, nodding, not noticing Thorin's momentary pause. 'Thank you. I just didn't want to let you down.' And he smiled at Thorin in such an open, happy way that Thorin's heart twisted painfully. Bilbo was gathering up the clothes and making to return to his chamber to change when Thorin stopped him.

'Bilbo?'

'Hm?'

'You... You can change in my bathroom.' There was a pause and then Thorin was babbling, trying to cover his embarrassment. 'I mean, so you don't crease the clothes when you're carrying them – I – Sorry, I-' He stopped.

Bilbo had never seen Thorin so distressed that he lost his composure, and especially over something so small. Maybe he was still a little drunk…?

'Thank you, Thorin,' he said, 'that's very kind of you. I think you're right.' He smiled up and Thorin just looked at him wordlessly, before coughing loudly and showing Bilbo to the bathroom. When Bilbo was safely inside, Thorin groaned and slumped into an armchair, covering his face with his hands. Now Bilbo probably thought he was an idiot… The thought of Bilbo reminded Thorin that Bilbo was here – in his room – getting _changed_ –

He swiftly stopped his thoughts right there. It wouldn't do to be thinking of Bilbo in _that_ way, never mind how much Thorin wanted to…

He was interrupted by his chamber door opening, and he looked up, intending to yell out his frustration on whoever had opened the door without knocking first, but stopped when he saw his nephews. They were already dressed in their finery and hair neatly braided, and they were laughing as they came in. They stopped when they saw Thorin, slumped in a chair and still in his nightclothes.

'Uncle, you know Dain will be here soon?' Fíli said, his expression changing to one of uncertainty as Thorin got up and approached them.

'You two, get _out_,' he hissed, 'quickly. _Now_.' He began chivvying them back towards the door. He really didn't want them here, not when Bilbo was too…

'What? Why?' Kíli said, looking hurt. 'Mama sent us to check on you-'

'I don't care, but please just leave-'

'Thorin, is this al-' Bilbo's voice sounded and then stopped when he saw Thorin manhandling his nephews out of the door. Everyone was still, Thorin cringing and Fíli and Kíli staring at Bilbo, clothes bundled under his arm as he walked out of Thorin's bathroom…

Suddenly, Thorin's mussed hair and nightclothes and his desperation for them to leave took on a whole new meaning.

'Oh!' Kíli said loudly. 'We didn't know we were interrupting something-'

'We'll just leave,' Fíli nodded, backing out of the door.

'What?' Bilbo sounded confused. 'You're not-'

'Don't worry, Bilbo, it's fine,' Fíli said, and Kíli winked at the hobbit. 'We'll leave you two be.'

At Kíli's wink, Bilbo immediately flushed a bright crimson. '_Oh_! Oh, no, no, no! _No_! It's not that – I was just asking Thorin-' He buried his face in his hands in the most adorable gesture Fíli and Kíli had ever seen. When he looked back up his face and neck were still flushed and he was avoiding Thorin's eye, but his voice was steady.

'It's nothing like that, boys, I promise you. I just needed Thorin's advice on what's appropriate for today.'

He picked up the pile of clothes he'd dropped in his embarrassment and walked to the door, squeezing past Fíli and Kíli but avoiding Thorin. 'I'll, er, I'll see you all later,' he said, and quickly scurried away, leaving Fíli and Kíli looking at Thorin, who gave them the darkest death-glare he'd ever managed.

'Well done, you two,' he said sharply. At least they had the grace to look embarrassed.

'Uncle, we're really sorry,' Fíli began but Thorin just waved him away, and the boys took their cue and left, shutting the door behind them. Thorin sighed and leant back against the wall, an unpleasant prickling sensation in his stomach. Bilbo had avoided him; he hadn't been able to look him in the eye… what if he thought…? What if he didn't want to be around Thorin any more after this? The thought made his heart impossibly heavy; heavier than ever before and Thorin wondered if eventually the weight of it would pull him down.

If Bilbo didn't talk to him after this, his nephews would suffer for it… Yes, he'd put Fíli in charge of running the accounts - and he'd like to see how much Kíli enjoyed cleaning stables…

* * *

Fíli and Kíli raced back to their mother's room, barging in through the door and causing her to look up from where she sat braiding her hair.

'Mother, you'll never guess-'

'You should have seen-'

'_Bilbo was in Uncle's room!_' They stood there, both breathing heavily from their run through the corridors and a little wide eyed as they grinned.

'Getting _changed_,' Fíli added.

Dís sat still for a moment, and then a smile slowly broke out over her face. 'Bilbo was dressing in Thorin's room?'

'In his bathroom,' Kíli amended. 'He said it was not because of _that_ but…'

'He couldn't look Thorin in the eye afterward,' Fíli finished. 'It was… more than awkward.'

Dís continued to smile and she motioned to her boys to come and join her at the dressing table. They slipped down next to her and she wrapped her arms around them, pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. 'Well done, boys,' she laughed. 'I knew I could rely on you two.'

* * *

Bilbo had returned to his rooms after leaving Thorin's, too embarrassed to go and face anyone else. His cheeks were still flaming but he tried to calm down; it had just been an innocent misunderstanding – Fíli and Kíli were young and mischievous, that was all… he pushed away the voice that insisted upon asking _why would they think it was _that_ in the first place?_

Instead he washed his face with cold water until his face stopped burning – his ears were still bright red though – and finished getting ready, brushing his hair so the curls fell neatly and making sure to wash his feet thoroughly, even combing the hair on his feet. As he did so he regarded his feet thoughtfully – would Dain find him strange? The Company had grown used to him but he had been the object of some funny looks from the servants back at the beginning. He'd become accustomed to being the only hobbit among a lot of dwarves, but at that moment he felt a little pang of homesickness shoot through him.

He had finished getting ready, shaking off the feeling, and then had gone to find Dori. Now that Ori and Nori had both found their Ones, Bilbo worried that Dori got lonely, especially now he had no one to mother, so Bilbo went to Dori's chamber and allowed the dwarf to make a fuss of him, making him a pot of tea and plying him with biscuits – not that Bilbo minded that – and good-naturedly assuring Dori that _yes_, he was warm enough, and _no, _he was perfectly well. Bilbo didn't mind; it had been a while since he'd had someone mother him so since his own mother died and it made Dori happier – the dwarf was always a lot more relaxed and cheerful after he'd been allowed to vent his fussing on someone. And if Bilbo got free tea and biscuits from it, well, he wasn't complaining.

And it was also a way of avoiding Thorin. Bilbo knew he'd have to talk to him when Dain arrived; at that moment in time, however, he still felt a little unsettled and wanted to regain his composure. It was silly, really, but that's just how it was…

At midday he and Dori made their way to the courtyard, where the rest of the company, the children and some of the household staff were waiting, gathered together much as they had done when waiting for the new arrivals before. They were all resplendent in their fine clothes – even the servants had fur and gold adorning their uniforms. Thorin had immediately caught sight of Bilbo; when the hobbit had offered a small smile Thorin had smiled in reply. It grew even wider when Bilbo walked straight to him without any encouragement on Thorin's part. Perhaps Bilbo wasn't as embarrassed about it all as he'd seemed – or was at least able to put it behind him.

When Bilbo had seen Thorin looking at him he'd felt a little trickle of embarrassment threaten to turn his cheeks pink once more but he resolutely ignored it and went over to join his friend. The sentries on the gate blew on the warning horn, alerting them all to the impending arrival. Thorin quickly turned to Bilbo, and spoke hurriedly.

'Bilbo, I wanted to let you know – Whatever happens, after this, I -' he paused, and tried again, '-I lo - I don't ever regret choosing you as our burglar.' He said it rushed and messily, and Thorin wanted to kick himself. That wasn't even what he'd wanted to say...

Bilbo had flushed ever so slightly - although it could have been the wind chapping his cheeks - and he gave Thorin a heartfelt smile. Thorin ducked his head as he added, 'And you look - you look lovely.' Because he did - Thorin wanted more than ever to smoothe those wind-buffeted cheeks, run his fingers through those neat curls. But he didn't, of course.

'Thank you, Thorin!' He sounded genuinely surprised and happy. 'I only want to make you proud,' Thorin heard him mutter; Thorin's heart swelled at those words and he might honestly have abandoned all caution to the wind and pulled the hobbit into his arms right there and then, but at that moment the gates opened and Dain and his delegation were riding in.

* * *

Bilbo had been... _wary,_to say the least, about meeting Dain. Thorin had told him about him - bit evidently not enough to explain the frown Thorin wore even as he greeted his cousin. He had drawn Thorin into a hug, smashing their heads together and laughing uproariously. He was dressed in scarlet, chains of gold links adorning his clothes and belts heavy with studded jewels. Next to him, Thorin almost resembled a raven in his deep, sombre blue; but that didn't stop the thought flickering unbidden through Bilbo's mind that Thorin was definitely the more handsome of the two.

Dís and Fíli and Kíli were presented to Dain, and then it was Bilbo's turn. He was ushered forward and Thorin placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. Its warmth gave Bilbo the courage to look up and meet Dain's eye before he swept into a low bow.

'Bilbo Baggins, at your service,' he said, and Dain looked at him appraisingly.

'Dain Ironfoot, at yours,' he replied, returning the bow. His eyes swept up and down Bilbo, widening slightly when they took in his larger-than-normal hairy feet, but then they flicked back up to his face and he flashed Bilbo a friendly smile. 'It is good to finally meet the halfling who helped reclaim Erebor. From what Thorin has told me, it couldn't have happened without you.'

'Oh, well...' Bilbo replied modestly. Thorin's hand, which he had removed when Bilbo bowed, had returned to its place on Bilbo's shoulder and now the fiery heat pouring off Thorin was making him rather flustered. He looked at Thorin, who was giving Dain an unreadable look, but then motioned for Dain to meet the rest of the company. As the two men walked off, Dís appeared at Bilbo's side.

'You know, you shouldn't listen to much of what Thorin might have said about Dain,' she whispered. 'He's mostly just bitter that as young dwarves, Dain was the only person who couldn't beat Thorin at sword play. I've never seen him get as competitive as he did when practicing to compete against Dain.'

Bilbo gave a chuckle, but was stopped from replying as Dain motioned for the group of richly dressed dwarves on horseback to rejoin them. They dismounted and Dain began to introduce them. There were about twenty dwarves, plus their contingent of guards, and most of them were females. This surprised Bilbo a little, as he had thought the number of dwarf women was smaller than men, but he quickly returned to focusing on putting names to faces and committing them to memory.

When they had all been introduced - and Bilbo had been the subject of many brilliant smiles as the women took in this little creature with the innocent features (which Thorin vehemently protested at to himself, and he made a mental note to keep Bilbo close).

If his sister was any indication, these dwarrowdams would be cooing over Bilbo in no time and stealing him from Thorin. And seeing as Dain's cheerfulness was already grating on Thorin's nerves (for no other reason than that Thorin was utterly at a loss as to _how _he was so happy all the time) Thorin was going to need Bilbo's diplomacy skills.

He led the company and the guests to the large receiving room where ale and some food would be served before they were taken to their rooms. Dain spotted the chess set in the corner, the one that had been Thorin's grandfather's with pieces of diamond and opal and the board made of veined marble, and suggested that Thorin play with him while the others all settled down on the various sofas and chairs in the room. Bilbo and Thorin alike were glad to note that Fíli and Kíli were at least behaving themselves.

Dís was ensconced at the opposite end of the room with the dwarrowdams and she motioned Bilbo over. He joined them and they plied him with questions about where he came from, what was it like there, did he like Erebor and did _all _hobbits have such large feet?

They were all very kind to him and Bilbo found himself warming to them instantly - and he was now used to seeing females with beards, so he made sure to compliment them on them. That seemed to do the trick and after that they wouldn't let him out of their sight. When it came for them to go to their rooms and have a rest before dinner, they were sad to leave Bilbo but he couldn't say he wasn't grateful for this respite.

While Thorin and Dís showed Dain to their rooms, Bilbo made his way slowly to his, lost deep in thought. He thought he had an idea...

Once safely in his room and he rummaged around on his mess of a desk before finding the book he wanted. It was the one he'd taken out all that time before when Thorin and he were walking back from meeting Lorin. He gently traced the title page, the leather worn and ink fading.

_Kingship and its Trials  
by  
Thorin, first of his name, of the line of Durin_

Written by one of _his_ Thorin's ancestors... Bilbo hadn't read it, but he opened it up now and gently turned the pages, trying to handle them as little as possible to avoid crumbling the paper. He saw a page entitled 'Important Aspects of Being a King'. There was a list and there, the third one down, it read,_To keep order and maintain power over one's people, one must present a powerful outward image. When are we stronger than when united? Therefore it is clear: a King must marry, and marry well..._

Bilbo gave a laugh, which turned into a cough as his dry throat was irritated. He tried to cough away the sudden dust, but the lump in his throat remained.

Thorin wasn't married. And Dain had come to help him become a King. The majority of Dain's party were dwarrowdams of noble birth... Bilbo knew what Dain was trying to do.

He wondered if Thorin knew... Sometimes Thorin could be a bit slow on the uptake, though... Maybe Bilbo could help. He thought of his success with Ori and Dwalin and Nori and Bofur, ignoring the voice that tried to point out that it was luck and not skill on Bilbo's part which had brought them together, and decided it couldn't hurt to try. Maybe Thorin would thank him, in a few years from now when there were little dark-haired dwarflings running around...

Strangely, Bilbo couldn't imagine that. Every time he tried to picture Thorin in a domestic scene he failed miserably, his imagination letting him down.

With a sigh, he moved on to the chapter on Dwarven Courtship.

* * *

**A/N: Eeeeep did you enjoy it?! I told you things would start to happen :P It's Fili and Kili though. They're so much fun. :D Please let me know what you thought, and I really do hope you enjoyed! :3**


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: IMPORTANT NOTICE! _THERE IS FANART FOR THIS_ FIC! Bloubell, who has been reading this fic over on AO3, has drawn a few adorable pictures inspired by this story! They're amazing, so go take a look! Link is on my profile page. :D :D :D**

**Eheheheh. Now... Will Bilbo find out in this chapter? Only one way to find out... Please enjoy this chapter!**

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**T**he pages were heavy and Bilbo relished the noise they made as he gently turned them. Unfortunately they weren't clearly marked so he struggled a little to work out which page he was on. Finally, he reached the page with 'Dwarven Courtship and Rules to Adhere to' written at the top in large, fancy dwarf script.

Bilbo settled himself down on his armchair by the fire and began to read.

_Courtship among dwarves is a complicated business, involving many subtle gestures. It should be reassured however that the complexity of the courtship means it is generally very short..._

He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Trying not to heave a sigh, Bilbo called for whoever it was to come in; the door opened and a dwarf entered. Dain.

Immediately Bilbo was on his feet, bowing to the dwarf lord and stutteringly inviting him to sit, leading him to the armchair he'd just been sitting on. He quickly hefted the book out of the way and set it on a side table.

'Good afternoon, Master Baggins,' Dain said, smiling.

'Oh, please, call me Bilbo.'

'Bilbo, then,' Dain nodded. 'You're probably wondering why I'm here.'

Bilbo shrugged a little, smiling a little. Yes, he was; but he wasn't going to question what a dwarf as important as Dain did with his time.

'Don't worry, you won't offend me! I merely wish to get to know you a little better. The dams seemed quite taken with you and we didn't have a chance to talk earlier - especially not with Thorin breathing down my neck.' At Bilbo's small frown, he waved a hand in protestation. 'No, no, I don't mean any offence. Only I know Thorin doesn't trust me very much.'

Dain grinned and motioned that Bilbo should sit too, on the opposite chair. Bilbo settled down in it and when he looked back at Dain the dwarf was staring at Bilbo's feet. When he realised Bilbo had noticed he looked up and laughed a little in embarrassment.

'I'm so sorry,' he said, 'I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just... You're the first halfling I've seen and I'm... Intrigued, to say the least.'

'It's fine, please, my lord Dain-'

'Dain, please. I don't hold much with titles.'

'Alright.' Bilbo grinned. 'When I first met the others, we spent the first few weeks sizing each other up. You aren't the first dwarf to give me or my feet funny looks,' Bilbo said good-naturedly, smiling. Dain laughed and Bilbo decided he _liked _Dain. He didn't seem to be any of the things Thorin had warned him about and when the conversation moved to books, Dain proved to be well-read and fond of the written word; Bilbo found himself to be laughing with Dain as if he'd known him for longer than the hour or two it really was.

At a pause in the conversation Dain's eye roved its way around the room, passing appreciatively over the desk piled high with books, and then it found the book on the side table. As Dain picked it up, eyebrows raised, Bilbo felt a knot of uneasiness settle and he decided against telling Dain of his reason for reading the book.

Dain looked at him, still holding the book - Bilbo silently thanked the Green Lady he hadn't left it open! - and Bilbo shrugged.

'We don't have kings in the Shire,' he said, 'so I decided to read up on it a bit more.'

'Really? You don't have Kings?' Dain sounded incredulous, and he set the book down. 'How do you keep order?'

Just as Bilbo was going to explain that hobbits don't really care for much beyond good food, a warm hearth and pleasant company, there was another knock on the door and it opened.

'Bilbo, I-' Thorin stopped short when he saw Dain sitting comfortably in Bilbo's chair, Bilbo opposite him and obviously in the middle of speaking.

Well.

At that moment in time Thorin couldn't hear anything above the roar of blood in his ears and he almost saw red. He froze as he battled with the - the _jealousy _threatening to consume him when all he wanted to do was knock Dain to the ground and pull Bilbo into his arms and never let go.

'Thorin?' Bilbo's small voice cleared the red fog and Thorin forced himself to move, walking stiffly over to join Bilbo.

'I'm sorry. I didn't realise you had _company_.'

His voice was wooden and he knew Bilbo was looking at him in concern but Thorin was focusing on Dain, narrowing his eyes and glaring for all he was worth. And _damn_ him, Dain didn't look in the slight bit discomfited; he was smiling ever so slightly.

'That's alright, Thorin, I was just leaving anyway,' Dain said, standing up and bowing to Bilbo.

'No, you were asking about-' Bilbo said, but Dain interrupted him by saying he had to go and see his companions before dinner and make sure they were settling in.

'I shall see you both at dinner,' he said courteously. If his gaze lingered on Bilbo for just a second too long and his look at Thorin was filled with mirth, well, only Thorin noticed and it was enough to make him bristle in indignation.

'Thorin, you do your cousin a great disservice,' Bilbo said, smiling as he touched Thorin's arm and pushed him into the seat Dain had just vacated. 'He's nice. We were talking about books...'

(Had Thorin made his new year's resolution on Durin's Day? No, he'd quite forgotten; from now on, he was going to make sure to read more.)

He let his hobbit chatter on a bit, trying to ignore the prickling feeling that intensified as Bilbo talked about how _nice _his cousin was, how _funny_... Couldn't Bilbo see that that was _why _Thorin had tried to put Bilbo off him? Because Thorin had _known _Dain would manage to worm his way into Bilbo's affections, as he'd always done even as dwarflings, and he was going to steal Bilbo from him just as he'd always managed to win over all the courtiers at his grandfather's court in the years before the dragon. Thorin had thought his heart was heavy yesterday; it was nothing to how much it weighed now.

'Thorin? Are... Are you alright?' Bilbo's soft voice broke into Thorin's thoughts and he looked up at Bilbo, trying to smile but failing miserably. It felt stretched and fake and Bilbo could surely see right through it.

'I'm fine, Bilbo. I... I came to give you something.'

Bilbo's eyebrows rose. 'You've got something for me?'

Thorin nodded. 'Bilbo, you're a part of this company as much as any of us, and I want to you to know that. Please, I know you don't care much for jewels but... I'd like you to have this.'

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small silver ring, delicate metal slivers shaped into petals around a golden core. Bilbo gasped at it - even he, who was immune to the call of the gold and precious metals, couldn't deny that this was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen.

'Thorin, I -' He stopped as his throat choked up, and looked up at Thorin. Thorin cleared his throat and reached back into his coat pocket.

'I think it's the right size, but I thought maybe you might like wear it on a chain...' He held out a thin silver chain, delicate and light but strong and handed it to Bilbo, who took them wordlessly. He slipped the ring on to the chain and fastened it round his neck, touching the silver flower gently with the tip of his finger.

'It's beautiful, Thorin. Thank you,' Bilbo whispered. He looked at Thorin and felt a rush of affection sweep over him suddenly, his throat constricting with emotion. How could he tell Thorin what this meant to him, this public display of their acceptance and embracing of him into their ranks...

Thorin just reddened slightly, running a hand through his beard. 'It's nothing I just... I found it in one of the old chests in my rooms. It seemed appropriate...' He trailed off as Bilbo's smile made him lose his train of thought.

* * *

It was not long until dinner and Thorin left soon after presenting Bilbo with the ring and chain. It made his heart race seeing Bilbo handling it so delicately and the look of wonder on his face as he regarded it, knowing...

At dinner time Bilbo made his way to the large dining hall where tonight's feast - for feast it would be to welcome Dain, as Thorin had explained before - was to take place. Most of the company and Dain's people were there, and Bilbo was immediately the centre of attention as the dwarrowdams once more swept him up into conversation. They all looked at him fondly and Bilbo was still amazed at how quickly they'd taken to him; he hoped their fascination would wear off soon, however, as it was quite tiring in the face of such attention.

When Thorin and Dain arrived, Thorin looking slightly strained, they all moved to take their seats and Bilbo found himself placed in between Dain on his right and Dis on his left. He was grateful he was next to Dís, who wouldn't fuss over him like the other dams, and Dain would make for a merry meal, so Bilbo was overall quite pleased with the seating arrangements. Thorin, of course, was not; but propriety dictated he give Dain the seat of honour and Fíli, as his heir, the next, which meant Bilbo would have Dain's full charm unleashed upon him and Thorin was, for this meal at least, hobbit-less.

Throughout the meal Thorin kept an eye on Bilbo; watching and feeling the jealousy prick his gut whenever he spoke with Dain and protectiveness rise whenever he saw a dam smiling at him. Bilbo was _his_... A voice spoke in the back of his mind that no, Bilbo wasn't _really_ his; and Thorin knew that he loved him too much to want to do anything to hurt him. But by Mahal, if anyone so much as harmed a curl on his head Thorin _would not_ be held responsible for his actions.

As Bilbo expected, Dain was a good laugh and had the gathered company in stitches at many of his tales. He and Bilbo continued their conversation from earlier, Bilbo explaining about the four Farthings of the Shire and the Thain and introducing Dain to the concept of a Mayor - 'so the people _choose_ their ruler? It's not a god-given right? And their sons don't inherit?' - and if Bilbo was aware of Thorin's ever-present watch on him throughout the meal he didn't show it. Soon enough Dain was asking Thorin about the Company, Bilbo explaining they were like a family to him.

'Even my cousin?' Dain asked, laughing and clapping Thorin on the back. Thorin grit his teeth. 'He's always been such a grump though. You should have seen him after I best him in a sword fight, once, Bilbo - he glowered at everyone, refused to talk and spent the next week practicing in the training grounds.'

Thorin was scowling at Dain's words, trying to resist the urge to punch him for bringing up his younger days - Thorin had many tales to tell about _him_, after all - but he froze when he heard Bilbo's light laughter over Dain's deep chuckle.

'That I can well believe!' Bilbo said, and to Thorin it was like a kick in the gut. He supposed it was only to be expected... But that Bilbo would _laugh _at him, and with Dain of all people; it hurt Thorin like no physical wound could. He felt his face darken and knew he was only adding fuel to the fire, but it was the only way to stop them seeing quite how much Bilbo's ridicule pained him.

Bilbo saw the scowl on Thorin's face deepen and felt a sudden niggling doubt. He felt bad, then - he knew Thorin tried, and it wasn't fair to laugh at someone like that... His hand flew to the silver flower round his neck; what if Thorin took it back because Bilbo had offended him?

'Oh!' He heard Dís' exclamation next to him and turned to ask her the matter, but found her eyes fixed on the ring he wore. He looked back down again and touched it protectively.

'I didn't think I'd ever see this again,' she breathed. 'Where did you...?'

'Thorin gave it to me,' Bilbo said. 'As a symbol of your acceptance of me.'

'_Thorin_ gave this to you?' Her gaze sharpened and flicked to her brother, who was looking at her almost beseechingly.

'What of it?' Bilbo asked, confused.

_So Thorin hadn't told him... Well of course he hadn't. Thorin was too stubborn to just tell him. _Dís made up her mind then, ignoring Thorin's pleading looks.

'Oh, no particular reason. I just remember him making this.' She turned back to her food but watched Bilbo from under her eyelids, flashing Thorin a gleeful, triumphant smile.

'He... He made this?' Bilbo asked in a small voice.

'He did. We were living in Ered Luin at the time, about fifty years ago it was. We were settled enough, we had a stable income from Thorin's blacksmithing and my cooking. We'd sold most of our gold - traded it for food. But Thorin had always kept safe in a pouch these few slivers of gold and silver, even when times were tough he kept them safe.

'Then one day he didn't come home from the forge. He didn't come back for three days; he didn't eat or sleep or stop to do anything. He worked solid until he came home one day, exhausted and dirty but grinning like anything and only this one small ring to show for it. It was an odd thing for a dwarf to make, so lacking in gems and a design more suited to elves... But Thorin didn't care.'

Thorin was staring stonily down at his plate, trying to ignore Dís but she could see him straining to hear every word.

'Why... Why did Thorin make this?' Bilbo asked softly.

'He said the Calling came upon him,' Dís explained. 'The Calling to create something for his One. Most dwarves will feel it at some point in their lives, will experience the pull to make something that represents their heart's one desire, even without knowing them. And Thorin's Calling called him to make that.'

'So Thorin made this for the dwarf he...loved?'

'Not necessarily the _dwarf_. Ones can transcend races, you know.'

'Oh.'

'Of course we all laughed that Thorin's one might be an _elf_, of all things; but that was before we knew of your fair land of the Shire and its nature-loving people.' Dís shot Bilbo a look which he didn't see, he was frowning at the ring on its shining silver chain.

'I... If you excuse me, please, I... I don't feel very well. I'm sorry.'

And with that Bilbo was up and making his way out of the room. Thorin made to reach for him, saying his name as he passed, but he pulled his hand back and let him go. He turned to Dís, his eyes glittering like two cold sapphires.

* * *

Bilbo stumbled back to his room, confusion and uncertainty making him unsteady. When he reached his chamber slammed the door and stood with his back pressed against it, feeling the rough grains against his skin and trying to still his fingers which trembled slightly.

When he could breathe he grabbed the book from the side table where he'd left it that afternoon and curled up under the blankets on his bed, cocooning himself within them as if to block out the rest of the world. He stared down at the book, tracing the ink-stained leather with one finger tip. Eventually he opened the book, turning back to the page he'd looked at earlier - it felt like a life-time away now.

He reached the page on courtship and stared down at it, uncertain. He took a deep, shuddering breath and then began to read.

His stomach began to twist unpleasantly, his breath coming shorter as he read the rules of courtship.

_...The presentation of one's craft to a potential spouse shows the intention to marry. Usually this is a manuscript, if one is a scribe, jewellery, if one is a smith... _

_...Clothes are an important part of dwarven culture and one of the more intimate steps in a courtship is the sharing of clothes. Allowing another to wear one's clothes is a sure sign of courtship..._

_...Braiding is perhaps _the_ most important part of our culture and it is therefore not surprising that it should play a large role in courtship. As well as courtship braids during the courtship, should a dwarf request another to braid his hair in the simplest of plaits, he is taking the final step of courting: proposing..._

Images flashed through Bilbo's mind as he read - himself, wearing Thorin's coat on a walk back from a picnic; a ring on a silver chain; himself braiding Thorin's hair at the dwarf's request... Surely Thorin wasn't trying to court him?

Surely Thorin couldn't be in love with him?

_No_. It was just Dís. She loved to tease - he'd seen her rib her brother on many occasions and it stood to reason she wouldn't be above pulling Bilbo's leg a little... But still his stomach prickled, and not entirely unpleasantly.

He gave a snort then, shaking his head at his own foolishness. Honestly, he was just being _silly_ now. Thorin did _not _love him, and most _certainly _was _not_ trying to court him. He removed the necklace with its delicate silver flower and placed it carefully on the bedside table, staring at it as he snuggled deeper down under the covers.

Ignoring the little twist in his gut - _(could Thorin really have made it for him? _No, Bilbo, shush. Don't think about that. _But maybe it's true- _Wasn't dinner nice today?) - he laughed at himself, conversing with himself like a madman. Maybe he was one.

With a sigh Bilbo rolled over in his bed - strange, the large dwarf dimensions had never really bothered him before but now the bed was strangely empty - and fell asleep. It didn't stop him dreaming of sapphires and emeralds and silver flowers opening and closing around a heart of molten gold.

* * *

**A/N: *evil laugh* How was that?! Now Bilbo knoooows... but does he** **believe? *sigh*. You'll just have to wait for the next chapter to see what happens :D**


	11. Chapter 10: Part I

**A/N: Right, this is the last chapter - but I'm splitting it into two parts again, so technically this is the penultimate chapter! It's very angsty though, as we reach the climax, so... I apologise in advance. I really, really, really do!**

**Please enjoy this chapter... If you can... ;)**

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**T**horin couldn't get the image of Bilbo's stricken face as he ran from the dining room out of his mind. Each time he closed his eyes he could see the confusion and shock on his hobbit's face, and he could only pray to Mahal that it wasn't revulsion he saw in his eyes and that stayed his hand from reaching out.

He didn't think he could take it if Bilbo rejected him.

His fury at his sister rose up with each minute he had to continue to sit at the table and endure the blasted meal. By the end of it he was nearly gnashing his teeth and it was all he could do to say goodnight to Dain civilly, especially when Dain expressed his concern over Bilbo. Thorin forcibly relaxed his fists, and nodded stiffly.

He made his way to Dís' chamber, where she was sitting on a chair by the fire waiting for him. She grinned her sly smile at Thorin.

'Well, brother? Are you going to thank me?'

'Thank you for _what_, Dís? Thank you for telling Bilbo all about my Calling and scaring the living daylights out of him? Dís, did you _see _his face as he left? He couldn't bear to be in there a moment longer! He couldn't bear to be in the same room as me! And you wonder why I never told him!'

He was shouting, loud enough for Fíli and Kíli next door to hear but he didn't care; his heart was hurting and it was all he could do not to break down completely. This was as good as a rejection; every dwarf feared rejection from their Ones, perhaps more so than death - death is final; pain has to be lived with.

'Thorin, he was just shocked. He didn't look disgusted, or averse to it!' Dís protested. 'If I hadn't told him, Thorin, would you ever have done? Or would you just have let him continue, wearing your ring and never knowing how you feel about him?'

'If it meant he stayed with me, yes!' Thorin shouted, and then he crumpled. He visibly shrank as he gasped for air, and he didn't protest when Dís came to him and held him close. She pressed a soft kiss to his hair, stroking it softly until he regained control.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'But please, trust me.'

* * *

Bilbo woke the next day, his eye landing on the ring and its chain, memories from last night flooding back. He let out a soft groan; he'd really thought for a moment that Thorin harboured feelings for him, hadn't he? Well that was embarrassing. At least Thorin didn't know that Bilbo had _actually _believed that for a moment...

Thorin was meant to be meeting with Dain today, and he wanted Bilbo there. Bilbo briefly considered pretending he was sick, but thought better of it - relations between Erebor and the Iron Hills really _did _need to be patched up, and Thorin didn't exactly like Dain, as he'd proven (and Bilbo still couldn't understand). It would probably be best for all their sakes if Bilbo was there to keep an eye on things...

And so he washed and dressed, selecting a fine white crisp shirt and a waistcoat of pumpkin - he remembered the dwarves laughing at such a colour, but Bilbo was fond of such flamboyant shades, and they'd agreed in the end that it suited him very well.

His gaze fell on the flower ring on the bedside table again. Should he wear it? Even now he knew what it - _might_, he added - mean...? He shook his head, ignoring the butterflies that suddenly seemed to be fluttering in his stomach. Honestly, Bilbo was _not _Thorin's One! What a ridiculous notion... He picked the chain up gently and fastened it, resting his finger on the silver curled petals for just a moment.

He wasn't sure how long there was until the meeting and whether he had enough time to have breakfast or not, and he was just deliberating on if he should make a dash to the kitchens or not when there was a knock on the door.

Bilbo rushed to open it and was greeted by Thorin (Bilbo quashed the sudden prickling in his stomach; honestly, he was going to have to put all this out of mind if he didn't want to spoil their friendship) who smiled tentatively. Bilbo returned it, just as uncertainly.

'I... Are you... Are you still coming? To the meeting with Dain?' Thorin asked softly. 'I thought perhaps you might be...still indisposed, after last night...' He sounded unsure.

'Oh, no, of course not. I mean - I mean, of course I'm going to be there. Look, I'm even wearing my special hobbit waistcoat to scare Dain with,' Bilbo joked to cover up his initial babbling. It pulled a small smile that tugged at Thorin's mouth, and Bilbo smiled too. 'I haven't eaten yet, though-'

'I'll have some food brought to the hall,' Thorin said immediately, and Bilbo brightened considerably. He stepped out and pulled the door shut behind him.

'Then let's go,' Bilbo said, and the two began walking to the meeting hall where Dain was waiting. Thorin itched throughout the entire walk to say something about last night, about the flower, to place a hand on Bilbo's back...

'It's not going to be _that _bad,' he heard Bilbo say, a small smile on his face. 'We're not even there yet and you're frowning.'

'Am I?' Thorin said, laughing weakly. 'I'm sorry...'

'No, no, it's... It's fine.'

Nothing more was said and the walk became increasingly awkward and Thorin longed to ask Bilbo about last night, about what Dís had said... But Bilbo hadn't brought it up so he would wait, as long as it took, until Bilbo was ready to talk about it.

For his part, Bilbo was trying to ignore the little details he kept noticing now - such as the way a strand of Thorin's hair had escaped its braid and kept flicking into his eye; the number of grey hairs in his gradually-growing beard; the little freckle he had just on his neck... How had he never noticed the freckle before? Thorin's presence was beginning to distract him and he was grateful when they reached the hall, where Balin, Dís, Dain and his advisor were waiting and Thorin's attention was focused not just on him. In the chorus of greetings Bilbo shook himself and breathed deeply, pushing the silly thoughts to the back of his mind. It was _business, _now.

They all took their seats at the small table -Thorin at one end with Bilbo and Balin on either side (Dís was next to Balin) and Dain at the other - but as they did so, Bilbo's stomach rumbled and he glanced at Thorin, who immediately motioned to a servant and murmured some orders; the servant ran off and within a few minutes had returned with a teapot and a plate of crumpets with golden, melted butter. He couldn't contain his delight as he thanked the servant, and he saw Thorin smiling at him out of the corner of his eye.

They began the talks, starting off with arrangements on protection and potential aid in war should the need arise, and Bilbo munched quite happily on his breakfast as they discussed matters he was quite out of his depth in. He finished when they began to talk about trading, however, and Thorin would occasionally pose a question to Bilbo about crops - which were quite often unnecessary - and Bilbo found himself clutching tightly at his teacup whenever Thorin directed his sharp blue gaze at him.

No matter how much he told himself he was being silly, Bilbo couldn't ignore the fluttering in his stomach whenever Thorin looked at him, whenever Thorin's elbow brushed against his arm... Bilbo sat stiffly in response, trying to ignore it and finding the whole situation completely silly but still unable to shake the thoughts. He focused on Dain and his advisor in an attempt to ignore the feeling.

Thorin too was acutely aware of Bilbo's presence beside him, and he noticed Bilbo's wooden posture and his jumpiness. When the meeting ended, Thorin reached out to Bilbo - and frowned when Bilbo jumped at his touch - and spoke in low tones.

'Please, Bilbo, can I... Can we talk? Now?'

Bilbo nodded. 'Of course...' Thorin led them out of the hall and up into the higher parts of the Mountain until they emerged out on the battlements. The sun was shining, even if the air was crisp and cold, and Bilbo turned his face up to the sunlight. The wind ruffled his hair as Thorin watched, his eyes soft like the sky as he watched Bilbo.

Bilbo looked at him then, and then just as suddenly looked away, confused. He frowned as he quickly returned his gaze to the landscape, and Thorin nearly cursed out loud - although that didn't stop the litany of curses he ran through in his head. He shouldn't have let his emotions show so obviously on his face; he should be more _careful_...

Bilbo had turned and at seeing Thorin there, the sunlight throwing strands of auburn into his dark hair and turning his eyes a light and sunny blue, Bilbo was struck by quite how handsome Thorin was... How had he never noticed before? Of course he'd noticed Thorin's rugged good looks before, but how had he not noticed quite how... Attractive he was? The thought made Bilbo incredibly flustered and he blushed, quickly returning his gaze to the land and away from Thorin, scolding himself for this foolishness.

Bilbo began speaking then, as he continued watching the lands beyond the Mountain, to cover his discomfort. 'Do you know what Dain was speaking about at dinner yesterday? He was telling me about the libraries in the Iron Hills...'

_Dain? _Why was Bilbo talking about _Dain, _now? Thorin didn't want to hear what Dain was saying, what charming anecdotes he was spinning to win Bilbo over.

'... And have you spoken to the Lady Hana? She's in charge of the jeweller's guild... And the Lady Gír is especially fond of books - did you know she holds a position of authority in the library there? She's very nice... Lady Sila says that the traders in Dale...'

Bilbo just started talking, not paying attention to what he was saying but just saying _anything _to fill up the silence.

Thorin just made the right noises in all the right places, listening to Bilbo but not taking it in as it felt like his heart was sinking. Slowly he realised something, as Bilbo continued to talk about Dain and his delegation.

Bilbo didn't love him - that he could deal with. What hurt was that Bilbo was evidently in love with one of the Iron Hills dams - or maybe even Dain. That made his blood boil, but he knew he couldn't stop Bilbo. But that didn't make this rejection hurt any less - especially as Bilbo _knew _he was Thorin's One... Didn't he? He couldn't not, surely...

He interrupted Bilbo after a while, unable to listen to any more without it hurting too much.

'Bilbo...'

'Yes, Thorin?'

'I should go and check on Fíli and Kíli. Make sure they're... Not causing Dain any trouble.'

'Oh - Of course... Didn't you want to say something though? I'm sorry, I rather babbled on a bit-'

'It's not important,' Thorin said, and smiled tightly. He realised it really wasn't wise to have come onto the battlements - he'd thought Bilbo would appreciate the sun but hadn't thought about how Bilbo might react to revisiting the place Thorin had nearly... It made Thorin sick to even think of it, and he hurried away, leaving Bilbo alone and his own heart beating so frantically it was trying to escape his chest.

He returned to his own chamber, locking the door behind him and sinking shakily into an armchair. At least he knew now, that Bilbo didn't return his feelings. He had hoped - of course he had; he kept the booklet Bilbo had made for him close to his heart all the time, in the inside pocket of his jacket. Always he could feel its presence.

A small part of his brain tried to protest - Bilbo had been wearing the ring today, hadn't he? - but Thorin pushed them away. Bilbo couldn't look at him any more, and he probably only wore it because he felt obliged to.

Suddenly Thorin couldn't stand to be in his rooms any longer; they were too claustrophobic, too close, and he pushed himself up and then was making his way to the very highest parts of the mountain, up beyond the battlements and into the old abandoned watch towers - they hadn't been used even before Smaug, and Thorin had escaped to them many a time when he had simply wanted to escape his princely duties for an hour or two; when he wanted some time to just be himself for a while and not _'Your Grace'_. Even two hundred years later, they still offered some comfort.

The tower was built so high up that you could see Lake-town on its stilts over the water, the sun reflecting off the lake like a fiery ruby as it disappeared behind the clouds. Thorin had forgotten how the days drew shorter as winter approached, and now here they were at not even three hours past midday and the sun was sinking. The tower itself was dusty, boarded up and with many weak spots on the floor from its extended disuse which one had to be careful to avoid. It smelt musty; to Thorin it was the smell of his early childhood.

He'd often wanted to share this discovery with someone when he was younger - a partner in crime with whom he could run away and camp out in these empty shells of rock, but he never had. Dís would have ended up telling, and Frerin would have tried to claim the tower as his; and so Thorin had always been alone when he came up here.

And as such, he was unprepared for the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He was up with his sword in his hand the moment he heard, and ready to fight when the figure stepped through the doorway.

'Oh!' a voice, distinctly feminine, cried as the steel of his sword was swept in front of the figure, blocking access to the room. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean...'

Thorin recognised the voice. '... Lady Gír?'

'My Lord Thorin?' she asked, surprised. 'I do apologise, I didn't realise. Should I leave?'

'No... No, it's alright. How do you know of this place?'

She looked slightly sheepish. 'I admit, I saw you headed somewhere in a hurry, and you looked determined, so... I followed you. I hope you don't mind...?'

Thorin just shook his head. He hadn't noticed anyone as he made his way here; but then, he hadn't exactly been looking out for people.

Lady Gír had moved to one of the windows - originally thin slits in the wall to protect from an approaching enemy's weapons and now crumbling round holes - and was gazing out over the view.

'This is beautiful,' she breathed. 'I wish we had views like this at home.'

'I hear you're a scholar,' Thorin said abruptly, ignoring her comment.

She looked at him, bemused. 'Yes. I am. Did Dain tell you?'

'No.'

'Then it must have been Bilbo?' She took Thorin's silence as confirmation. She sat down carefully among the dust and the debris left on the floor. 'Mr Baggins is quite the scholar himself, you know. He's read a lot, for one so young.'

'He's not young, by his people's standards,' Thorin said stiffly, protesting at the implication.

'Of course not,' she said carefully, 'but he has had only fifty-one years to read, whereas you and I have had over two hundred.'

Thorin raised a shoulder in acknowledgement and went to join her on the floor.

'So what's the story behind this place?' she grinned, gesturing around her. 'I'm guessing it's important. I mean, you're obviously distressed and you come here for solace; you were ready to fight when you heard me coming...'

Thorin smiled. 'I used to come here as a boy, when my duties became too much. I could just be me, here.' She smiled too, looking around the tower room again. 'I haven't been back since the day the dragon was slain and Erebor was once more ours. I admit, this isn't exactly how I had planned to share it.'

'Oh?'

Thorin shook his head. 'I had hoped I might bring my One here. He... He has a great love of natural beauty and I had entertained dreams of perhaps... Proposing, here...' Thorin smiled a little at the thought of Bilbo standing here, on his tiptoes as he gazed out in wonder at the view of Lake-town, his curls a fierce orange gold in the setting sun. 'But that is no longer to be.'

Lady Gír rested a hand on his arm. He could see ink splotches on the skin and callouses from handling a quill.

'I cannot claim to know how it feels to be rejected by your One, but I do know the effects. My... My mother was rejected by her One after she found out she was pregnant with me. He just left one day, and she never heard from him again. She never recovered, either. She died when I was only twenty-seven, her broken heart never strong again, and I was apprenticed to Master Forin of the Grand Library.'

'I... I'm sorry,' was all Thorin could say. Her hand squeezed his arm gently before she let him go.

'Don't be,' she said lightly. 'If there's one thing I know, it's that you can't just expect things to happen. Have you told him outright how you feel?'

'No, not expressly, but...'

'Then that's what you have to do!' she said, smiling. 'If I'm right, and your One is a certain hobbit with curly hair and large feet - you haven't exactly been subtle,' she laughed at his shocked expression, '-if I'm right, and I usually am, he just doesn't understand quite how important a One is. And from what I can tell, he's painfully shy about these things-'

Thorin shook his head. 'He knows that he is my One - my good sister told him, more or less. Since then he can barely look at me, let alone speak to me. But I thank you, Lady Gír, for your comfort.'

'Then I hope you will forgive him, at least. The pain of rejection will eat at you enough without gnawing resentment consuming you too.'

'Do you know,' Thorin smiled, 'you can _tell _that you work with books?'

Gír laughed, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. When the last sliver of sun disappeared low in enough in the sky that it no longer shone in through the windows, Thorin got up and lent a hand to Gír. Offering her an arm, he walked her back down the stairs and through Erebor to her rooms before turning back to his own.

His heart wasn't light, but it was certainly lighter.

* * *

Bilbo couldn't settle for the rest of the day. He'd gone to see Fíli and Kíli after a while and the gnawing anxiety had increased when they'd said they hadn't seen their uncle since breakfast. Even Bofur and his cheerful smile couldn't make Bilbo feel better, and after sitting in his room trying and failing to read as Thorin's face flitted through his mind constantly, he eventually gave up and headed out to Thorin's room.

There was no answer when he knocked, and Bilbo wondered if Thorin was ignoring him, or if he just wasn't there. He thought perhaps it was the latter, but where would he be? He wasn't with Fíli and Kíli, or Dís. Might he be with Dain? It was worth a try...

He walked quietly down to where the guests were staying, but he froze into place as he was heading down the staircase, before scurrying away back round the corner and poking his head round to see, when he heard voices...

Yes, there was Thorin, and -

Bilbo felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He gasped air into his resisting lungs, insisting _that_ was the reason for the water welling up in his eyes. His blood was pounding in his ears and he was winded...

Because there was Thorin, and on his arm, laughing up at him was Lady Gír. Thorin was - he was laughing too, and he looked more relaxed than Bilbo had seen him since the picnic.

Oh, what a_ fool _he'd been. If only he'd listened to his Baggins self rather than indulging his Took, because he really was a Fool of a Took and more deserving of that title than any of the inhabitants of Tuckborough. He was such a fool, because he knew now...

He knew he loved Thorin. He loved him more than his smial, than his books, than all seven meals a day; Yavanna, Bilbo loved him more than the air he breathed and now, it seemed, he'd got his wish - it looked like his plan had worked: Thorin had found himself a lady love. It was what Bilbo had been hoping for, but now he understood why he could never imagine Thorin in a domestic scene; he understood the nerves he got when he saw Thorin; he understood why Thorin's mere presence made him feel as if Lithe, Yule and Harvest had all come at once.

It was because Bilbo Baggins, fool that he was, was in love with Thorin Oakenshield - who just happened to have fallen in love elsewhere.

* * *

**A/N: *incoherent sobbing* _(It was so painful to write, guys... I really am so sorry! But I won't keep you waiting too long - I'll update the next chapter tomorrow.)_**


	12. Chapter 10: Part II

**A/N: GAAAAAAAH it's the last chapter! I just hope it lives up to your expectations. *fingers crossed*. Please enjoy!  
**

* * *

**B**ilbo was ill the next day. And the next.

The only person he would see was Óin; the old dwarf might be deaf but he wasn't blind and as soon as he saw Bilbo, eyes sunken in tiredness and tear tracks running down his cheeks, he knew no salve of his would heal Bilbo. But he spread the word that Bilbo had come down with a fever and was not to be disturbed, even though he knew it was a broken heart that ailed the hobbit.

Thorin was inconsolable and refused to hold the meetings with Dain, not until Bilbo got better. Of course he worried, but what hurt Thorin most was that Bilbo wouldn't see him. They were friends, he thought; he should have known that somehow their relationship would be spoiled, just as everything Thorin seemed to touch did. What kind of a King was he, if he couldn't even keep a friend? But that didn't stop Thorin from sitting by Bilbo's chamber until he was forcibly removed by Dís or Óin when he fell asleep on his stool.

After two days of Bilbo's 'illness', he finally re-emerged. His eyes were red and puffy and his usually bright curls were lustreless, and it wasn't hard to believe that he'd been ill.

He opened his door to find Thorin, immediately jumping up from his seat.

'Bilbo?' Thorin's voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't been talking. Bilbo looked at the floor.

'Óin says you haven't been having your meetings. With Dain,' Bilbo said to his feet, and Thorin was worried by the quietness and raspiness of Bilbo's voice. Surely he wasn't well enough to be up?

'He tells you correctly. I was waiting for you, but you aren't well-'

'I'm fine,' Bilbo cut him off, and offered him a small smile. 'I promise.'

Thorin didn't believe him, but he knew Bilbo could be as stubborn as a dwarf when he wanted to be; the last thing Thorin wanted was to be at loggerheads with him while he was still recuperating. So Thorin summoned Dain and Balin and Dís and the negotiations continued, but Thorin made sure to cut it short as he worried for Bilbo, who sniffled beside him and was deathly pale. And oh, it _hurt _when Bilbo flinched at Thorin's gentle hand on his arm.

Bilbo escaped back to his room once the meeting ended. Thorin followed and knocked on the door, calling to Bilbo. There was a pause for a moment before Bilbo called back that Thorin was right and he still wasn't fully well, and he was going back to sleep. Thorin ate his lunch alone that day, taking his cheese and bread up to the abandoned tower room and staring up at the overcast sky.

For his part, Bilbo just wanted to be alone. He hadn't reckoned on how much it would hurt to have to sit next to Thorin, to have him look at him and talk to him like that while Bilbo knew what he did - that Thorin's eye was on another. How could Dís have ever thought that _Bilbo _was Thorin's _One_? The thought would have made him laugh, if it didn't hurt so much.

He refused to cry, though. He'd wallowed and cried for two days until the thought of his mother came to him. He could just imagine her, scolding him for this self-pity and telling him to get up and sort it right out; he agreed with the first part, but wasn't quite sure how to go about the latter.

At least hobbits didn't have Ones, he mused as he stared into the fire, his head stuffy from tears and the heat from sitting too close to the fire. He'd read up about Ones and it sounded a painful, complicated business. At least a hobbit's heart would heal after rejection, even if pride was wounded in the process. But the gradual fading of a dwarf just sounded painful.

(Of course, Bilbo wondered how his heart would heal, considering how it felt broken into so many little shards.)

But that night Bilbo slept, if not soundly then at least deeply, and he felt better when he woke. He joined Thorin, the company and Dain and his companions for breakfast, and he thought he managed it well considering how Thorin and Gír were in the same room. He felt the others' gaze upon him, especially Dís' and Dain's; he busied himself with (trying) to eat his breakfast, forcing the food that tasted of nothing past his lips and swallowing to at least give some appearance of normalcy. Thorin was only relieved that the dark circles under Bilbo's eyes were clearing and his skin was returning to its usual pink.

Neither of them noticed the sharp look Dís shot in Dain's direction and their hurried, furious conversation after breakfast, Dís looking murderous and Dain worrying at his lip with his teeth.

The meeting that day was short again, as Thorin made sure to be as reasonable as he could to prevent Bilbo getting worked up - Thorin knew how aggravated Bilbo could become when Thorin was being stubborn, and he didn't want to set back what was so far a successful recovery.

The third day after Bilbo got up, however, was entirely unexpected.

Bilbo had joined them all for breakfast again, finally looking healthy again once more. Thorin couldn't help but smile in relief, and when Lady Gír looked at him pointedly he blushed and looked down at his plate.

And that was when Bilbo's foot-tapping began.

Bilbo saw the way Thorin blushed when he looked at the Lady Gír, and he tried not to feel bitter, he _tried, _but it didn't work. If he only hadn't gone and got involved; if he hadn't stuck his nose where it didn't belong then maybe, just maybe, it'd be him Thorin couldn't look at without blushing. (Of course Bilbo didn't realise that this had been the case already for far longer than he would ever have believed.)

And so he began to tap his foot unconsciously, as he did when he was nervous, knowing he would have to endure another day of sitting next to Thorin and pretending that everything was alright when it _wasn't _and just being near Thorin was like a knife to the heart.

They relocated to the meeting hall. But this time Bilbo didn't sit next to Thorin; he couldn't, not when it hurt so much, so he sat on Balin's other side, closer to Dain. He missed the stone-like mask that settled over Thorin's face at that, and the flash in his blue eyes. Dain, however didn't; neither did Dís or Balin, and the three looked at each other uncomfortably.

After only fifteen minutes of wooden answers from Thorin and a stoic silence from Bilbo, Dain gave up.

'We don't seem to be getting anywhere today,' he said to Thorin, whose facial expression didn't change. 'Perhaps we're just a little tired, but... If you'll excuse us, I think we should come back to this tomorrow. '

Thorin gave a curt nod, and Dain, his advisor, Dís and Balin all got up, knowing when the effort was futile. Bilbo began to get up too, grateful to escape, but then Thorin's voice cut through the room sharper than a knife, in the tone of voice he'd never used with Bilbo before. If Bilbo was honest, it scared him a little; too reminiscent of a day when threats had been made and he'd nearly ended up flat at the foot of the Mountain.

'Bilbo, I would talk with you,' was all he said; but in that moment Thorin really was King under the Mountain and it was enough to send shivers down Bilbo's spine. He stopped where he was, feeling Thorin's full gaze on him and he avoided his eye, wincing when the door shut loudly behind the others.

Thorin stood, his chair scraping on the floor. Bilbo heard his footsteps as he walked to the other end of the room.

'What are you doing?' Thorin's voice was low and deep.

Bilbo frowned. 'I'm standing here...'

'I don't mean _now_!' Thorin snapped, and immediately he put his head in his hands and Bilbo flinched. 'I don't mean that,' he said more softly. 'I mean, why are you avoiding me?'

'I don't-'

'Bilbo, you don't talk to me anymore, you barely _look_ at me. We don't spend time together any more. Why?' Thorin sounded desperate, and as Thorin approached him Bilbo could see hurt in his eyes.

'Can't - can't you _see _why? Don't you see what I'm doing?' Bilbo said beseechingly.

The face Thorin looked at him with was stricken, and Bilbo was shocked to see such emotion on his face.

'Are you trying to say goodbye?' Thorin all but whispered.

'What? No!' Bilbo exclaimed.

'Then I don't...'

'Thorin, don't you see? I had wanted to match-make _you_, I had wanted to find you your One, and then the other day I saw you with Lady Gír and I thought it had _worked_-'

'You... You tried to match me with some dwarrowdam from the Iron Hills?' Thorin's voice was hollow as he stared at Bilbo, who was close to tears. He really didn't want to talk about this, to talk about how _foolish_ he'd been… But then Thorin was striding closer and Bilbo shrank back a bit, forgetting how imposing Thorin could be when he was angry.

'Why would you do that?' Thorin asked, and to Bilbo's surprise he too sounded close to tears. 'Why would you do that, Bilbo? You've just - you've made everything worse!' He turned abruptly, not looking at Bilbo as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders hunched.

Bilbo couldn't help it then. He was hurting and he was _angry _- at being treated like a child, angry at himself for being such a fool - although he wasn't sure if he was a fool for interfering or for falling in love. The two were as bad as each other, he supposed.

'Because I wanted you to be happy!' he shouted, losing his temper and causing Thorin to turn back to him. 'Because I saw you were _un_happy and I thought I could help! And then when I saw you and Gír - together - I started avoiding you because - because - Oh, sweet Eru's sake! Because I _love _you, Thorin!'

He clapped a hand over his mouth after he said that, freezing into place as Thorin did the same. Bilbo let out a low moan, shaking his head, and began to run for the door.

'Bilbo, wait!' Bilbo ignored Thorin's call, but then the dwarf was in front of him and holding him and Bilbo couldn't escape the embrace, no matter how much he struggled. And oh, how he wanted to relax into those strong arms encircling him, but he _couldn't_...

'Bilbo, what did you say?' Thorin's voice from above his head was tender, and it made Bilbo want to wail.

'I said I _love _you, now please let me go...'

'Why would I do that, Bilbo, when _I love you?'_

Bilbo froze. 'Please don't.'

'Don't what?' Thorin sounded confused.

'Don't _say _that!' Bilbo moaned, finally managing to escape Thorin's grip and stumbling backwards.

'You think I'm just saying that? You think I don't mean what I say?' Thorin sounded angry now and Bilbo turned, unable to look him in the eye. 'Bilbo, when have I _ever _lied to you? You _know_ the steps - why do you think I gave you my coat? Why do you think I let you braid my hair? Why is it, Bilbo, that my Calling dictated a ring too small for the finger of anything but a _hobbit_ and shaped like a flower? Tell me, Bilbo, why ever since I first learned the names of all the gems, emeralds have always been my favourite?'

There was silence except for Thorin's heavy breathing, and Bilbo just stood, head still buried in his hands. It _couldn't _be true...

'Bilbo, if I didn't love you, why would I keep this with me all the time? In my jacket pocket, close to my heart every day, and under my pillow every night?'

Thorin's voice was unbearably soft, and Bilbo looked up, to see Thorin holding - the booklet Bilbo had made for him all that time ago.

_Of course_... Bilbo had given it in friendship, never realising its significance to Thorin. He gasped a little now, taking a shuddering breath. Thorin took a step closer, and when Bilbo didn't move, he took another step closer, and another until he was right in front of him, close enough that his braids were tickling Bilbo's ears.

'Please, Bilbo. Believe me,' he said.

And Bilbo did.

'I love you,' he whispered, before tugging on Thorin's braid to pull his head down and locking their lips together.

And it was a million times anything Bilbo had ever hoped, ever imagined, ever dreamt it would be. Thorin's arm encircled him and he felt safe and warm and loved like never before because this dwarf loved him - loved _him_, Bilbo Baggins!

Thorin broke the kiss after a moment, his mouth travelling to Bilbo's ear. 'Bilbo, my One,' he murmured.

'Yes?' Bilbo replied breathlessly.

'How about we run away, and skip your five-year courting tradition?'

Bilbo couldn't stop the little giggle that escaped. 'We've already run, my dear. Lobelia will never find us here. Let's just get married!'

'I wholly second that,' Thorin said, before pulling Bilbo back in for another kiss.

* * *

'Fíli, stop moving-'

'Shut up, Kíli! They'll hear!'

'What's happening?'

'Sssh!' both Princes rounded on the hatted dwarf and the rest of the Company behind them, all itching to know if their long-standing plan to get the two long-suffering idiots together had worked.

'I knew Father should have made this bigger,' Dís grumbled as she peered through the slit in the wall of the "spying chamber" at the pair passionately embracing in the meeting hall. She turned to Dain, standing beside her with a grin on his face. She held out her arms to him and he embraced her, before smashing their heads together.

'I have to thank you, Dain,' she laughed. 'You and your dams did your jobs perfectly. We got there, in the end.'

'As, my dear, did you,' he grinned. 'Oh, Thorin's going to be so cross when he finds out. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you tell him you set this all up.'

'Who said anything about telling?' Dís whispered lightly back, still peering through the wall, before letting out a noise halfway between a squeak of surprise and a hum of satisfaction. 'I don't think those two are going to be finished any time soon,' she said, and quickly pulled her sons away from the spy-holes and shooed them out as, after so many _painful_ months of waiting, Thorin finally did what he'd no doubt been dreaming of for months.

'You know what it means, though?' Fíli whispered to Kíli. 'Uncle's going to be unbearable...'

**_FINIS_**

* * *

_**This is a LONG author's note!**_

**A/N: There we go. That's it. Here ends _A Perfect Match_... Did you like it?! Bahahaha yep Dís and Dain were behind it all! _She _was the one who got him to come with a delegation of dwarrowdams in order to effectively knock Thorin and Bilbo's thick skulls together and GET THEM TOGETHER, MAHAL'S SAKE! She knew right from the off about how those two felt about each other ;)**

**In my first drafts, the confrontation scene went really differently though. Basically Bilbo was still oblivious to the whole thing (I hadn't made him find out through the book, at that point - but I decided it was literally too painful to keep it like that!) and had played a bigger part in actually physically getting Thorin and a dam together (or at least trying to). Thorin was, of course, angry about this because he only wants Bilbo, so the confrontation went a little like this...**

_**T: Gosh Bilbo why would you do that, why would you try and pair me up with some dam from the Iron Hills?! You've just made everything worse! (nearly cries)**_

_**B: Well I only wanted you to be happy! Why would you be such a bum about this god Thorin I was only trying to help...**_

_**T: How do you expect me to feel when I love you, Bilbo?!**_

_**B: ... ... ... oh. **_**(I toyed with the idea of making him nearly faint here, too. Like he does in the film when faced w****ith the thought of 'incineration'... Finding out the King of Erebor is in love with you is just as life-changing as being incinerated, right?!)**

**And then a really happy realisation and reunion and aaaaws. But it was too painful to keep Bilbo so ignorant so I changed it... I hope you like this version ;D  
**

** It's been so amazing writing this and I honestly cannot thank you guys enough for all your amazing support and lovely comments! They've made me so happy :') ********Gaah I'm so emotional right now! I can't quite believe it's really over. *sniffs* BUT WAIT GUYS I've just had the most amazing idea, right. What if I wrote a companion piece to this - ****Dís' point of view?! Hahahah. What do you think?! **

**********Thank you guys again - you are ALL SO WONDERFUL :3 *hugs you all* I really hope you enjoyed and thank you so very much for reading and sticking with me to the end! :') **


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